


Ten Years Later: Legion

by Cellindaer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 02:00:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 186,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21929596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cellindaer/pseuds/Cellindaer
Summary: 05/02/08: Ten Years after the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry, now a Senior Auror, struggles to move on from the ghosts of his past. As he continues to deal with the memories that haunt him, an ancient threat resurfaces, threatening to plunge Harry and the rest of the wizarding world in darkness.
Comments: 19
Kudos: 30





	1. Ten Years Later

_WHERE ARE THEY NOW?_  
_The Golden Trio ten years later_  
_By Parvati Patil-Macmillan_

_We all remember where we were the night the Second Wizarding War ended. We know the story: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley arrived at Hogwarts late on May 1, 1998 on the hunt for Tom Marvolo Riddle's remaining Horcruxes, each of which held a fragment of Riddle's soul. When Riddle learned that Potter and his cohorts had discovered the Horcruxes, he lead his army to Hogwarts, which rallied behind current Headmistress Minerva McGonagall to drive the Death Eaters from the school._

_By the end of the night, Harry Potter had heroically sacrificed himself for us all, destroying the fragment of Riddle's soul that had been buried deep within him since that fateful Halloween nearly two decades earlier. In doing this, he protected the defenders of Hogwarts from the Death Eaters and put the final nail in Riddle's coffin, defeating Riddle in a final duel in the Great Hall, claiming the Elder Wand for his own, and ending a nearly four decade reign of terror by the former Dark Lord._

_Each of us has a story to be told since that day. But what has happened to the so-called Golden Trio? While none of them have fallen out of the spotlight, Hermione Granger remains the most public of the three. Having been granted a spot on the Wizengamot, alongside her position within the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Hermione Granger has become one of the faces of the pro-Muggleborn movement that has come about in the aftermath of that final battle._

_Granger, 27, is notoriously tight-lipped about her personal life and refused to answer anything regarding the rumors that she has been dating renowned Quidditch star Viktor Krum, despite being spotted together several times over the last few months._

_On the other hand, Ron Weasley is an open book. Weasley, 27, began his career at the Ministry of Magic where he joined Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom in joining the ranks of the Aurors almost immediately after the Second Wizarding War. Less than three years later, Weasley had decided that he had had enough dark wizard hunting for one lifetime. He subsequently quit the Aurors and opened his own branch of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, the company owned by his older brother, George, in Hogsmeade, which immediately became a smashing success._

_During this time, the burgeoning relationship between Weasley and Granger began to falter. Public joint appearances became infrequent, unless Potter was between them, and there were reports that the two were struggling to get along at home. By the turn of the century, everyone that knew the couple confirmed that their short romance was finished. While the two of them are good friends now, there was a brief period where it looked as if Weasley and Granger would never speak to each other again._

_Currently, Weasley is dating the younger sister of his sister-in-law, Fleur Delacour-Weasley, Gabrielle. Gabrielle, 22, has lived in England for the last four years and works for the Department of International Magical Cooperation, liaising with most of the European Ministries of Magic on behalf of the British._

_As for The Man Who Won, he-_

Suddenly, a stack of papers dropped down on the Daily Prophet in his hand. Harry looked up to see his boss, Gawain Robards, standing over him.

He did not look happy.

"I see that you have time to read the paper. Mind reviewing these files for me?" Gawain asked. Harry had worked under Robards to know enough that this was not a request. Despite the fact that Harry was seated at his desk, Robards still only stood about a head taller than him, although Robards must have outweighed Harry two-to-one. His round stomach was a weapon of its own, used as a battering ram to force people to back away from him whenever Robards was angry, which was often. Whether Robards knew just how uncomfortable he made people, Harry never deigned to figure out.

But knowing just how volatile Robards was, Harry supposed that he knew the answer.

Harry stood, taking the stack of papers and placing them back in Robards's hands, now standing a good head taller than the Head Auror.

"Sir, I will remind you again that as an Auror working on active assignment, I am unable to review case files for other investigations."

The other problem with Gawain Robards was that when he was having a bad day, which was often, he often targeted the Aurors that he liked the least, giving them extra work at the end of the day. Considering that Harry was by far the most public Auror in the Office, and had made Robards look foolish on more than one occasion, his desk was usually the first place Robards went.

It was just unfortunate that Robards was a bit of an idiot, which usually gave Harry further opportunity to humiliate him, something that he took great joy in.

"I know the regulations. But we both know that we're not bound by law to follow those regulations. Therefore, I'm telling you to review these cases."

Harry sighed. He knew that he wouldn't end up doing anything with these files. But he also knew that he was going to have to fight his way out of it.

"Sir, if I review these files, I will be forced to sign them. If I do that, then the Compliance Department will notice my signature, which they have seen dozens of times, because, need I remind you, I send more cases their way than any other Senior Auror, and, having seen my signature, they will reject the file and it will come back to your desk and you will be required to personally review it. By giving me this file, you are going to end up doing twice as much work on your own. So, you can give it to me and make me late for the Anniversary celebration, of which I am the guest of honor, personally invited by the Minister of Magic himself, or you can give it to literally any Auror who is not on an active assignment and have it done by the end of the day, no strings attached."

Harry watched as Robards attempted to process all of this information. In his heyday, Robards had been a great Auror. Unfortunately, playing by the rules had not been a strength of his. In fact, Robards likely owed his position to his former partner, who was now the Minister of Magic. Thankfully, Arthur Weasley was now the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and had empowered a number of Robards's subordinates, allowing them to push back against Robards whenever he decided to go off the rails.

Despite the strange nature of this working relationship, the Auror Office was as efficient as it had ever been. Robards was the rabid dog, willing to do anything to chase after Dark wizards and dangerous artifacts and Senior Aurors like Harry and Paul Dawlish were responsible for reining him in and ensuring that he followed procedures. If anyone had told Harry ten years earlier that he would have been responsible for reining someone else in, he would have laughed.

But, that was simply proof that a lot had changed over the last decade.

Finally, Robards stopped staring at Harry and answered him.

"Fine point, Potter," Robards growled before looking at the clock on the wall behind Harry. "You ought to get going. Don't want to be late for your photo op with the Minister."

"My photo op with Kingsley isn't until after my speech, sir," Harry said as Robards's skin went pale. It was well known that Robards believed himself to be a viable candidate for Minister of Magic moving forward, despite the fact that almost no one else believed that. Harry took any opportunity he could get to remind his boss that he was far better acquainted with the Minister of Magic than Robards was these days.

"I'm certain I'll make it with plenty of time. Still, I had finished my last report so I do think I will be on my way."

"Right," Robards grumbled as Harry grabbed the newspaper from his desk. He marched passed Robards and out of his office. He was at the door that lead to the rest of the Department when he heard someone shouting his name.

"Auror Potter!"

Immediately, Harry knew who it was. Despite the fact that he had asked her not to refer to him as "Auror Potter" at least a dozen times, Susan Finch-Fletchley had persisted. Of course, her aunt had been quite a stickler for the rules as well.

Harry turned back to see Susan nearly running his direction from the records room, certainly with some last case note that she wanted his opinion on before he left.

"Auror Potter!" she shouted again despite the fact that she now only a few feet away. Every head in the room turned as she shouted, which was the last thing that Harry needed at the moment. Despite the fact that he had just finished taunting Robards over the fact that he was leaving early to get ready for the Anniversary Celebration, his popularity was something that he had never grown particularly comfortable with.

"Susan," Harry said through gritted teeth as he forced a smile to his face, "how many times have I asked you not to call me that?"

"But it's regulation. I am your Junior Auror and according to Rule Number-"

"Thirteen-thirty. I know the rule, Susan. I wrote it," Harry said promptly. "But I don't think that we need to be quite so formal. We were in the same goddamn class in school for Merlin's sake."

"It's still regulation and I intend to follow the regulations."

"Fine," Harry sighed, "what did you need?"

"Well, I have a question about the Lestrange case?"

"Which one?"

"Pardon me, Rabastan. You see, it says in the report that you captured him in Spain, trying to join up with a group of Riddle sympathizers."

"That's correct," Harry said, his eyes glancing at the clock on the wall. While it wouldn't take him long to get ready, he did still have a speech to write. Of course, considering the number of speeches he had given over the years, making them up on the spot had become one of his favorite games.

"But in Auror Dawlish's report, it says that he had been captured by that same group of sympathizers."

"That is also correct. Rabastan had spent most of his time post-war in Germany but when their Ministry started to get too close, he fled to Spain. His brother had hid their for a time and he expected that they would take him in. Instead, they captured him and tried to use him as a bartering chip to get some of their allies out of prison."

"That's when you and Auror Dawlish assaulted their base of operations?"

"Along with about thirty other Aurors and support from the Spanish Ministry. Susan, this case is four years old. Why are you asking me about this case?"

"Well, I've been reviewing it because his solicitor has appealed his sentence. They're saying that he was technically a prisoner at the time of his arrest and therefore should have had time taken off his sentence."

"He's saying that because another group of extremists had him in a cage for a week, he should have that time taken off his seventy-year sentence?"

Susan paused for a moment, clearly apprehensive of what she was about to tell Harry. Over the years, Harry had developed a reputation among the Aurors. He expected the best from everyone in his unit from the rookie up to the veteran. Harry was also fair in his criticism and did his best to consider every idea presented to him, even if he ultimately decided to go another route.

However, he also had a reputation for "shooting the messenger," as it were, something that Arthur had been forced to speak to him about on more than one occasion over the last decade. In this moment, Harry was certain that's what was going through Susan's mind as she struggled to get the words out of her mouth.

Unfortunately, considering Harry's rapidly closing window to get ready for what would amount to an evening spent in front of Prophet reporters who would bite on anything that Harry did wrong, he was not in a particularly patient mood.

"Susan, what is it?" Harry growled.

"They're trying to get the sentence thrown out entirely because it wasn't considered when he was sentenced. They're trying to get his conviction overturned."

Immediately, Harry felt his jaw lock up. Harry's record was impeccable. While his name would have gotten him the fast track to any job he wanted, the fact remained that Harry Potter had become one of the best Aurors in the history of the Office after just a few years on the job. Of the nearly two hundred arrests related to the Death Eaters, Harry claimed one hundred and twenty-three on his own, seventy more than the next closest Auror. In addition to his volume, his accuracy was impeccable with every single one of them being convicted for their crimes.

Now, he was being told that because of a bogus claim, one of his biggest busts was on the verge of being tossed. Needless to say, this did not fill Harry with joy as he felt his ears start to warm as he fought to keep his anger in check.

"How?" Harry finally stammered.

"How what?"

"On what grounds could Lestrange get his conviction overturned?"

"No legitimate ones but Nott has been spending a lot of time in the Wizengamot offices."

"Likely a lot of money too," Harry whispered. "He's going to try and get the case in front of Fudge, I assume."

"He's been their go-to when it comes to bribes."

"One of these days, we're going to get something on him and I'm going to nail him to the fucking wall!" Harry said as he slammed his hand on the doorframe, once again causing everyone in the office to look his way. Things had changed over the years but the one thing that remained the same was that Purebloods could still count on Cornelius Fudge to look out for their interests and his bottom line. Fudge had been chosen to fill one of the seats in the Wizengamot after the war, a plant chosen specifically by some of the older Pureblood families. It was widely known that he was taking money from Purebloods to push their agenda but in the ten years that Harry had been an Auror, no one had ever been able to get enough on him to take him down.

Two years earlier, he had been suspended for a few months during an investigation that had ultimately lead to three Aurors getting fired and Fudge back on the bench. That was the closest anyone had ever gotten to proving that Cornelius Fudge was in the pockets of families that had long supported Riddle, one of the only cardinal sins in the post-Riddle wizarding world.

Harry ignored the looks he got from the rest of the Aurors and stepped closer to Susan so that his words would only be heard by her.

"Get here early tomorrow morning. We're going to go through this piece by piece and ensure that there is nothing that they can use. Once we've done that, we'll bring Arthur and Robards in to ensure that this gets upheld."

"Could we try to direct the case to another member of the Court?"

"Unfortunately, the Wizengamot appointed Fudge to serve as the judge in charge of appeals. Technically, he's just the one in charge of deciding whether or not something gets a second chance."

"But he also gets to decide who hears the case if he grants the appeal."

"Exactly," Harry replied. "Listen, we'll get into this in the morning. I really have to go."

"I know. I'll see you in the morning, Aur-"

"Susan, in the name of Albus Dumbledore, if you don't knock that off, I will-"

"Good night, Harry. Tell Hermione and Ron I said hello."

"You're not coming?"

Susan shook her head. "Robards assigned me to work the night shift."

"That's not fair. You were there for The Battle."

"Someone has to do it," Susan said with a shrug. "So, tell everyone hello?"

"Will do. You'll do the same for Justin?"

Susan smiled before turning and marching just four desks away.

"Harry says hello," Susan said as she leaned over her husband's shoulder. Justin never looked up from his work. Instead, he simply raised his hand and waved in Harry's general direction, his eyes fixed on the report in front of him.

"Thanks," Harry said with a roll of his eyes as he was finally able to turn and leave. Harry made his way down the hall to the front desk where he signed out for the day before taking the lift up to the Atrium. As per usual, the moment Harry reached the Atrium, there was a gaggle of reporters between him and designated Apparition area. Also per usual, Harry marched through them, his eyes locked on a point in the distance as he pushed through the crowd as they shouted their questions and took over two dozen photographs in the few seconds it took him to cross the room.

Thankfully, Harry made it to the Apparition point without incident and immediately turned on the spot, leaving the reporters staring at nothing as Harry was transported from The Ministry of Magic to a quaint, little town in Devon where the festivities for the evening would take place. Just a few days after The Battle of Hogwarts, the Ministry had declared Godric's Hollow a historical monument for all wizardkind in Great Britain. The few Muggles that lived in the town were given massive stipends to move and within just a few years, Godric's Hollow was the first "haven" town established for magical folk after the Second Wizarding War.

While most of the town had remained as it was, one large change had been made. Every home within five hundred feet of the house where Harry had lived had been torn down and the entire area had been set up as an official monument to commemorate the end of the Second Wizarding War. A single obelisk with the names of every person who was killed during the First and Second Wizarding Wars etched on it stood in the center of the memorial, just in front of the front door of Harry's former home.

On the other side of the obelisk stood the newly constructed Dumbledore Memorial Hall. The building was a museum of sorts, dedicated mostly to the lives of Albus Dumbledore, Harry, and their respective families. It was used each year to host the Annual Anniversary Celebration on the date of the end of the Second Wizarding War. Each year, thousands of people flocked to this spot for the memorial service, which was held on a stage just outside Memorial Hall. After that, the members of The Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army would have a private reception inside Memorial Hall where they could mourn their lost friends away from prying eyes.

As the unofficial leader of both The Order and Dumbledore's Army, Harry was one of the few people who had the ability to Apparate directly into the War Memorial space, landing just a few feet away from the obelisk. It was nearly forty feet high and each name was etched so that it could be seen from a few feet away. Instinctively, Harry's gaze floated to the top of the obelisk where he saw the names that he held most dear.

Remus Lupin. Nymphadora Tonks.

Sirius Black.

Dobby.

Albus Dumbledore.

Lily and James Potter.

Then, his eyes dropped to the bottom where one more name hid among the masses.

Severus Snape.

Even a decade later, Harry had trouble quantifying exactly how he felt about Snape. Without Snape, they surely would have lost years before Harry even was given the choice to take Riddle down himself.

But does that make up for years of abuse?

Harry considered the obelisk for a moment before marching through the crowd, which was already starting to gather over an hour before the ceremony was to start. Harry quickly slipped into the restroom to change from his work attire into a plain black suit. Over the last few years, as the stigma of being Muggleborn had faded away, some of the more open members of the wizarding world had begun to eschew the "traditional" wizarding attire for a more modern look. As a result, Harry hadn't worn robes outside of work in nearly a year. To be honest, Harry was grateful for the change. He wasn't a particularly tall person and no one as short as he looked good in a robe.

Once he had changed, Harry stepped through the double doors that lead to the main banquet hall. The room itself was designed to look a bit like The Great Hall at Hogwarts. While the ceiling wasn't quite as well enchanted, it did show a rough estimate of the daylight and weather outside. When someone looked up tonight, they would see nothing but a full moon and clear skies. On the other side of the far wall was the memorial dedicated to the First and Second Wizarding War, complete with photos of Harry and his schoolmates as well as a copy of the photo of the First Order of the Phoenix.

As Harry looked around the Hall, Harry was not surprised that most of the featured players in tonight's service were already present. Each year, the same group of people sat on the stage set up in front of Memorial Hall, each of them speaking about the experience of the war and what perspective they had taken away from the last year. Obviously, Kingsley Shacklebolt as Minister of Magic was one of those people. Unlike his predecessors, Kingsley was widely respected as Minister. Under his leadership, the Ministry had slowly begun to move away from the Pureblood ideals that had kept it from evolving. Despite the fact that there was a large contingency that was disagreed with these changes, Kingsley had somehow kept the country from devolving into a third civil war. He had largely done this by tempering people like Hermione, who wanted to make every change at once. Kingsley kept a backlog of legislation that he had determined were related to blood purity. Every few months, he would release another act and almost immediately sign it into law. For a few weeks, the more conservative Pureblood bloc would scream for Kingsley's head but eventually, their screaming would die down and life would move on, just in time for Kingsley to push forward another piece of legislation.

The second person to speak at this year's Anniversary event was the current Headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall. Much like Kingsley, McGonagall had spent the last decade slowly changing Hogwarts, changing how the House system worked and encouraging further cooperation between the Houses. While Harry doubted that they would ever completely eliminate the stigma that had been placed on Slytherin House, the work that Minerva had done over the last ten years was certainly a wonderful step in the right direction.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem like Minerva was going to have too much time left at Hogwarts. In just the last few months, it had become obvious to anyone with a working set of eyes that Minerva had slowed down significantly. According to the Healers at St. Mungo's, the attack that she had taken in Harry's fifth year had done a sizeable amount of damage to her magical core. While there wasn't much known about where magic came from or how it worked, there was enough research to suggest that it was magic that gave witches and wizards such long life and any significant amount of magical damage could affect a person's lifespan. The kind of hit that Minerva had taken had done just that. She now walked with a cane almost permanently and according to some of his former classmates who now worked at the castle, she rarely left her office for anything other than meals.

It appeared to be the end of an era. While no one knew for certain who Minerva intended to name as her successor, there had long been whispers that she would attempt to hire Hermione Granger away from the Ministry of Magic. While Harry wasn't certain that Hermione would leave with a job "half-finished," as she would say, he was also certain that Hogwarts may have been the only place that could have pulled her away.

Ron Weasley stood with his new belle, Gabrielle, at the far end of the room, standing next to Hermione and Viktor. While Ron had been unashamed to announce that he and Gabrielle had started dating, no one, Harry included, knew what the deal with Hermione and Viktor was. They had denied any accusations of any kind of a relationship between the two of them for years, despite the fact that Harry was likely the only person who saw Hermione more often.

That said, Harry's relationship with Hermione was complicated enough without any potential relationship between his best friend and the renowned Seeker.

Ron, just like Harry, had taken Kingsley's offer to join the Aurors immediately after the Battle of Hogwarts. For nearly three years, he worked alongside Harry, helping to bring down the remnants of the Death Eaters that had scattered after Riddle's defeat. However, once that was done, Ron had abruptly quit his job as an Auror. According to Ron, he had had enough danger in his life. After a few months of laying around, George approached him and offered him the opportunity to run his new store in Hogsmeade, which Ron jumped at. Now almost seven years later, Ron had purchased a sizeable ownership stake in Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, meaning that, assuming he didn't start gambling his money away, he would never have to worry about providing for his children.

Harry still wasn't sure where the relationship with Gabrielle had come from. To be honest, he didn't particularly care. Ron had just shown up at Christmas with Gabrielle and told his family that they were dating. Fleur had considered registering her opposition to the idea for about two seconds before Bill had reminded her how much she hated how the Weasleys had originally treated her when she and Bill had first started dating. In response, Fleur had simply expressed her hope that they were happy together before marching out of the room.

On the other side, Harry had heard "we're just friends" come out of Hermione's mouth more times than he could count over the last two years. Three years earlier, Viktor Krum had signed with the Tutshill Tornados, becoming one of the League's most popular players. Almost immediately, he and Hermione had rekindled their relationship. They had apparently gone on a couple of dates before deciding that any sort of permanent relationship was out of the question. Still, Hermione and Viktor did spend a lot of time together, although not quite as much time as Harry spent with her, which had lead to its own series of questions, most of which couldn't be answered in a manner that the public would accept.

Harry wondered if part of Hermione's apprehension to classify her relationship with Viktor as such was because of the fallout after her relationship with Ron had fallen apart. Thankfully, there had been no world class blowup between the two of them. Things had simply stopped working. Between each of their work and then their completely different living styles, they eventually came to the mutual decision that things were just not going to work between the two of them. Harry, having been both of their best friend since they were all eleven, was one of the few people who knew all the facts regarding Hermione and Ron's falling-out. Thankfully, there had never been any sort of public animosity between the two of them and other than a few catty comments from one to the other, you would never know that they had dated at all, which Harry was only too glad for. In the eighteen months after The Battle of Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione had gone from star-crossed lovers to best friends once more without any noticeable difference in their interaction.

Of course, that could have been caused by the fact that Hermione was simply too busy for any kind of relationship. While Harry and Ron had joined the Aurors, Hermione had returned to Hogwarts to finish her education before going to work for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Immediately, Hermione had set her sights on rewriting dozens of laws, especially those regarding the treatment of house elves. While Hermione had learned over the years that the wholesale release of house elves was not a great plan of action, she remained determined to eliminate their mistreatment, specifically the kind that the Malfoys had demonstrated towards Dobby.

For months, she had fought and fought, getting nowhere. Finally, she had managed to pass a law preventing house elf owners from abusing their elves. The only people who had expressed outrage had been those who had openly or privately supported Riddle. Once the rest of the Ministry realized that, they began openly supporting Hermione Granger's initiatives, mostly because they knew that it would get them in the good graces of the new Minister of Magic. Whatever their reason, that support opened the floodgates for Hermione's work. In the last year alone, she had modified or passed forty-eight new laws that corrected or improved the living and working conditions for non-human Beings. At the same time, she had begun working with Arthur in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to change laws regarding blood status.

In fact, over the last few years, Hermione Granger had become the most powerful non-Department Head in the entire Ministry of Magic. Despite her relative young age, it was widely expected that she would be appointed as the Head of the next Department whose current Head resigned, regardless of the Department. Despite all of this stress and excitement, Harry and Hermione still saw each other frequently. They often ate lunch together and several times a month, they had dinner and spent the evening together, simply enjoying each other's company. It was often a nice, relaxing way to enjoy the end of a stressful week.

The last person to speak at these events was always Harry himself. When Harry had tried to ask someone else to be the keynote speaker, it was Hermione who impressed upon him just how important his words were to their audience.

"You are the sign that we won, Harry. You literally died and came back to save them all. They like hearing from me and Ron and the others. But if you didn't speak, they wouldn't come. They want to hear from you."

As much as that bothered Harry, who believed that Hermione and Ron's words had just as much value as his own, he knew that she was right, just as always.

When it was finally time for the ceremony to begin, Kingsley lead Minerva, Harry, Ron and Hermione out of the front doors of Memorial Hall and up onto the stage. Almost immediately, the flashing lights of a dozen cameras flooded the area. It was rare for Harry, Ron and Hermione to appear in public together any longer simply because they could never enjoy themselves due to the frenzy that their presence created. That frenzy only magnified when they were joined by the Minister of Magic and the Headmistress of Hogwarts.

Kingsley approached the podium as the other four sat behind him while he greeted the crowd. One by one, they each stood and gave short speeches, some parts of them rehashed from years previous. As always, Kingsley was regal, Minerva nostalgic, Ron humorous, and Hermione thoughtful. Still, Hermione was right. While they listened to the others, the moment Hermione introduced Harry, they screamed and shouted and clung to every word in silence.

Once he heard his name, Harry stood and waved at the crowd before finally begging them into silence so that he could begin. He stood at the podium for a few moments before he spoke, speech in hand, staring out over the crowd. Harry recognized many of the faces in the crowd, old friends, classmates, and colleagues, all of them looking to him. As he scanned the hundreds of faces staring up at him, he saw George and Angelina, with their young son Fred on his father's shoulders. He saw Roger and Cho Davies just behind them, Cho several months pregnant with their first child. Even further back was Ernie and Parvati and their three children, each of them more beautiful than the last.

It was then that Harry realized just how much things had changed. The first time he had stood on this stage, he had been a scrawny twenty-year-old, his face clean shaven and his voice uncertain. Now, he was twenty-seven, he had spent the last decade adding muscle to his figure and he hadn't been clean shaven in over a year, even as the grey seemed to spread further and further away from his chin. Harry knew that there was a Muggle saying that stress caused your hair to turn grey. If that was the case, Harry was amazed that his hair wasn't snow white at this point.

Harry's speech was barely different than his speech the year before, which was barely any different than the other seven he had given on this spot. To be honest, no one really cared what Harry said when he stepped up to the podium. For most, especially those that didn't know him personally, just seeing his face was enough. So just like he had for the last ten years, Harry spoke about conviction and sacrifice and honored those that they had lost. When Harry was done speaking, the crowd once again cheered for him for so long that Harry had to request that they be quiet so that Kingsley could close up the program, which he did swiftly, allowing the members of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army to enter Memorial Hall and begin their annual reunion.

All but three of them, that is. While everyone else got to go inside and relax, Harry, Ron and Hermione instead wandered towards the bank of reporters and photographs that had been placed near the back of the crowd. For over an hour, the "Golden Trio," as they were now called, answered questions, each of them detailing their lives since the last time they had spoken to a reporter. Of course, for Harry, that hadn't even been a week yet and for Hermione, it had literally been the day before.

Only Ron, who had managed to largely slip away from the constant publicity that their place in society seemed to have anything new to tell the reporters, which he gladly did in order to keep the questions away from Harry and Hermione. With both of their jobs being so public, it was likely that if the reporters had their way, they would ignore Ron entirely to focus on Harry and Hermione's job record as well as their notoriously private personal life.

While Parvati's article had been correct that Hermione had been tight-lipped about her life outside of the Ministry, that paled in comparison to Harry's outright refusal to answer any questions that had to do with his home life. Even now, the reporters asked Harry about his rumored relationship with Hermione because they had been spotted having dinner in public just a few nights earlier. For almost anyone else, that wouldn't have been a big deal but considering the fact that the last time Harry had been spotted in public outside of his work had been nearly a year earlier, it was a monumental event. Little did they know that Harry had been quite intentional about being spotted. By giving them a little bit to grasp onto, the questions ended up focusing on his potential relationship with Hermione, rather than the other facets of Harry's personal life, which was exactly the way he wanted it.

Thankfully, the press had something else to latch onto: a photograph of Hermione and Viktor at a fundraising dinner hosted by Augusta Longbottom. Hermione had asked Harry to attend, which had caused a laughing fit that had lasted nearly ten minutes. When Harry had finally been able to respond, he had declined as gracefully and tactfully as you could after laughing at someone for that long. As a result, she took Viktor instead, which had lead to the photograph in question. Almost half of the hour the three spent answering questions were dedicated to Hermione's artful dodging of any question related to her relationship with Viktor as was standard for Hermione. Over the years, Hermione had become a master at the art of saying nothing, especially in regards to Harry and Viktor. During their hour in front of the press, she "answered" nearly forty questions and gave away not a single piece of valuable information.

Finally, Ron looked down at his watch and noticed that an hour had passed. In the middle of Harry's incredibly boring answer to a question regarding an arrest he had made the week before, Ron informed the reporters that their hour was up and that they had to go inside to join the rest of the memorial. Quickly, Ron took Harry and Hermione by the arm, leading them away from the incredibly disappointed reporters.

"Thank Merlin that's over," Hermione grumbled.

"You know, you could just tell them that you and Viktor are dating," Harry replied. "Maybe they would leave you alone."

"First, we aren't dating. Second, even if we were, do you honestly believe that they would leave us alone?"

"Not a bloody chance," Ron said as they entered the Hall to find the celebration was already in full swing. While May 2nd was always a somber day, the decision had been made that while the rest of the world would see them mourn, they would take the opportunity to celebrate Riddle's defeat in the privacy of Memorial Hall, away from the wandering eyes of the public. Parvati had even signed a release that prevented her from reporting anything that occurred inside Memorial Hall.

The moment Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the room, the conversation stopped and everyone turned to face them before breaking out into spontaneous applause. As was his tradition, Harry stepped up onto the stage at the front of the room before magically amplifying his voice.

"Thank you!" Harry said, his voice still barely audible over the cheers. A second later, George appeared at his right, a firewhiskey in both hands, both of which Harry took before lifting one in the air. Almost immediately, everyone in the room mirrored Harry.

"To those we lost," Harry said softly, although his voice boomed across the room, before knocking back the first firewhiskey, the alcohol in it burning all the way down into his toes. Again, everyone in the room echoed him and drank as well.

"Thank you all for coming," Harry said as he cancelled the charm that magnified his voice. Now, you could hear a pin drop in the room, meaning that Harry had no reason to keep the charm. "For some of you, it's been a year since I have seen you. For others, it's only been a day. Still, I am glad to see everyone here so that we can celebrate Riddle's defeat and honor our dead. Each year, I have chosen to honor a specific person who died during the wars. However, this year is different. It has been ten years, three thousand six hundred and fifty days since the end of the War. To commemorate this special day, I am honoring not one but two people, two people that I never got the chance to meet. This year, we honor Lily and James Potter."

Harry looked across the room and at this moment, he wished that he could have seen Sirius or Remus or even Dumbledore, someone that had truly known his parents as more than a colleague or a student of theirs. Instead, most of the crowd was too young to have any real memory of his parents and the few that did know his parents didn't know them well.

"My parents were twenty-one years old when they were killed by Riddle. You all know the story: a prophecy declared that a child would be born with the power to defeat him. The details of the prophecy meant that either Neville or myself were the child in question. Riddle, a half-blood himself, chose me, another half-blood. Ultimately, he failed to kill me but he did murder my parents in the process, my mother's death acting as the sacrifice that protected me and ultimately lead to Riddle's downfall."

"Prior to the end of my fifth year and the death of my godfather at the Ministry of Magic, I didn't know about the prophecy. I just knew that my mother threw herself in front of me when Riddle attempted to kill me. I knew that my father tried to stop Riddle even though he did not have his wand. They were twenty-one years old, barely four years older than I was when I walked into the Forest. On the night of the Battle of Hogwarts, I didn't truly understand how young my parents were until they died. But on my twenty-first birthday, Hagrid commented that I was as old as my parents had been when they had died. In my own mind, I was still a child, even though I was serving as an Auror by day. Even then, I still couldn't wrap my head around their sacrifice at such a young age. It wasn't until I held my godson in my arms that I understood just what they had given up: the opportunity to see their child grow up in something more than just a child."

"Once I held Teddy in my arms, I knew and now that I know just what they gave up, it changed how I felt about what we did ten years ago. Over half of the people that stood in front of Riddle that night were technically children. At the time, it seemed insane that we would allow children to fight our battles. Even now it seems insane. But I think about my parents and now I realize that they were only a few years older than we were. They had been given the chance to stand up and fight and they did. My parents were only four years older than I was at the time. They had been through the same war and fought the same fight and when the time came, they stood in front of Riddle and they fought, just like all of us."

"Colin Creevey stood up against Riddle and fought. He was sixteen years old when he died. Lavender Brown stood up against Riddle and she fought. She was seventeen years old when she died. Fred Weasley stood up against Riddle. He was twenty, just a few months younger than my mother and father were when they were murdered. Nymphadora Tonks was twenty-four when she died, fighting. Severus Snape, after years of spying for both sides, was murdered by Riddle's snake, Nagini. He was thirty-eight when he died, the same age my parents would have been had they lived."

"In the end, they all died fighting for what they believed in. In the end, their age didn't matter. Their sacrifice was no more important than that of Colin or Fred or even Dumbledore himself. Of course, the death of my parents is more important to me just like there are others who are more important to each of you. In the end, all those that died and all of us who lived, we were given a chance to stand up and fight for what was right. We could have run. We could have hide. No one would have blamed us. But we didn't. We stood up and told Riddle that we would not back down, no matter what he brought against us, the same way my parents did on the night of their murder. Their age didn't matter. Whether you are sixteen or thirty-eight, we all must fight for what we believe in. Whether you are a child or as old as Dumbledore himself, when we are offered the choice to stand up for what is right, we must do so. If we don't, that's when people like Tom Riddle are given the chance to take hold of our society. And to that, do you know what I say?"

"What do you say?" came the response of the crowd, a tradition that had been started with Harry's speech at the first Anniversary Celebration.

"I say never again!" Harry shouted, his voice reverberating off the walls.

"Never again!" everyone echoed.

"We say never again!"

"Never again!"

"Never again!" Harry said as he lifted his drink in the air. "To those who lived!"

"To those who lived!"

All at once, everyone downed their second shot of firewhiskey. Harry closed his eyes and let the firewhiskey burn for a moment before we opened his eyes and held his empty glass up to his friends and family.

"We say never again to remind ourselves that it was fear that truly killed our friends. Fear of change, fear of the fight and fear of death. If we face our fear, we will ensure that Riddle and his kind never have a chance to bring us down again. Never again!"

"Never again!" the crowd shouted as Harry jumped down from the stage and joined his friends below him. Immediately, Harry found himself surrounded by his closest friends, those that had been dubbed "The Inner Circle" by The Daily Prophet on more than one occasion. Hermione stood to one side while Ron and Gabrielle stood on the other. Neville Longbottom stood with his girlfriend, Hannah Abbott, beside Luna Lovegood, who was arm-in-arm with George, laughing at some comment that George had just made to her and his wife, Angelina. Finally, Ginny and Dean walked over from the place where they had hidden in the corner. If there was anyone in the country that was as famous as Harry, it was five-time British Quidditch League Most Outstanding Player, Ginevra Weasley.

This was the group, those that really knew the real Harry Potter. The comments about it being an "inner circle" of sorts bothered some of the others, who didn't want anyone to feel left out. But Harry knew the truth: these were his closest friends, his brothers and sisters. They were the only people in the room that he routinely saw outside of his work at the Ministry and to be honest, they were the only ones that he really wanted to see.

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry knew he had a decision to make. He could lie to everyone about the true nature of his year on the run and his disappearance into the woods or he could tell the truth. For nearly a month, Harry wrestled with that decision before he finally agreed to sit down with newly minted reporter Parvati Patil. He gave her every piece of information she wanted and even some she had never considered asking. In exchange, Harry was given final veto over the article.

After nearly a dozen drafts and six months time, the article had been released and suddenly, Harry went from Harry Potter, Man Who Lived to Harry Potter, Wizarding Savior. He was a messianic figure, someone who had cheated death not once but twice on his way to defeating the most nefarious Dark wizard in a thousand years. For all but those that were intimately close to Harry, it changed everything about how they viewed him. People found it difficult to talk to him without fawning all over him. And if they did, they were constantly asking him for help or asking for his endorsement. Harry's word went as far as anyone's, in any subject imaginable, even if he knew nothing about the subject matter.

The rest of the night went about the same as every other May 2nd had gone since the Battle of Hogwarts. Ron and Seamus got so drunk that their partners, Gabrielle and Terry, had to take them home early in the night. At the same time, Hermione and Andromeda Tonks spent most of the evening discussing the various changes happening in the Ministry at any given time while Viktor, Ginny, Angelina, Katie and Alicia stood in another corner and swapped their glorious Quidditch stories. In the end, life had moved on.

But others handled their past better than others. When the clock struck midnight and Harry found that almost everyone had gravitated somewhere else, he stood from the table they had eventually congregated around, briefly said goodbye to Hermione and Ron, and then Apparated home. Home was no longer Grimmauld Place, which Harry had sold only a year after The Battle of Hogwarts. Home was also no longer the flat he had rented in Diagon Alley for two years. That location had been impossible to keep secret and soon, he was hounded by reporters almost daily.

Now, home was a small cabin in the woods north of Hogwarts, just on the far side of the wards of the castle, making it remarkably tricky to Apparate into. The home was small, just a living area, kitchen, bedroom and bathroom, which was exactly how Harry liked it. More than anything, he liked how far away from the rest of the world it was. He liked that he could look out his bedroom window and see the Headmaster's Tower of Hogwarts in the distance.

Harry walked into the small cabin and with a flick of his wand, lit the candles that hung from the small chandelier in the middle of the kitchen. The house was effectively bare. Harry spent almost no time here other than to eat and sleep. He worked long days and often worked weeks in a row without time off. Again, that was largely of his design. The more time he had to himself, the more his mind was prone to wandering and in those moments, Harry was reminded of the old horrors in his life. So, he found new cases to work on, new mysteries to solve. He found other things to keep him from thinking about the names that he had mentioned earlier that night.

Because when Harry thought of those names, he didn't think of the good times. He thought of their corpses. He thought of their corpses and dozens like them who had perished during the Battle and the years before it.

Harry went to the one cabinet in the kitchen that he knew would be full and pulled out a bottle of Fred's Finest, the best firewhiskey George sold. Most nights, Harry would indulge in a nightcap or two.

On May 2nd, Harry, already a bit drunk from the party, knew that two would never be enough.


	2. Family

For ten years, without fail, Molly and Arthur Weasley had hosted a family dinner on Sunday evening at The Burrow. Some weeks, everyone in the "family" would attend and on others, less than half of them would be able to make it. That was simply how things worked when your family held some of the most influential people in the country. Still, Molly and Arthur cleared the kitchen and the living room before extending the table so that it could fit upwards of twenty people before Arthur then vacated the house for a few hours so that Molly could cook without murdering her husband.

At first, the invitation for these weekly meals had gone out to just the Weasleys as a way to mourn Fred's loss. While Harry and Hermione had been invited, they had both agreed that the Weasleys needed some time to themselves. Around two months later, Harry and Hermione both attended for the first time and had hardly missed a Sunday since then. As time went on, more and more people were added to the invitation list. Soon after, Andromeda and Teddy had been invited and around March of the next year, Kingsley had been granted an open invitation. Over the years, as the family had grown, Arthur had openly considered ending the dinners since they were such a massive effort to do, especially for Molly.

At that suggestion, Molly had invited Minerva McGonagall, Hagrid, Luna, and Neville to join them. In order to accommodate everyone, Arthur, Ron, and Harry tore down the exterior walls of the first floor and, over the course of a long weekend, nearly tripled the size of the ground floor of the Burrow. Even still, no normal dining table could fit everyone, requiring Arthur to design a new one that could be magically extended, which he had been glad to do. Now, when all twenty-six of the "Weasleys" sat down for dinner, they could all fit at the largest dinner table Harry had ever seen outside of Hogwarts.

Harry did love these Sunday meals. Most of Harry's typical week involved long hours at the Ministry. While he loved his job, it was a hard one and it often kept him away from his friends and family more often than he wanted. Harry was dedicated to his job in a way that he knew was likely unhealthy. If he was owled at two in the morning, he would usually come right in to work, even if his presence wasn't necessary until the next morning. His dedication, along with his obvious skill, were two of the reasons that he was already the heir apparent to become the next Head Auror once Robards quit (or got fired, although Harry wasn't particularly hopeful that second one would happen anytime soon).

However, his subordinates knew that if they contacted him on a Sunday evening, they had better be reporting the return of Tom Riddle or else Harry would personally ensure that they were on desk duty for the next year. It was the only time each week when he knew that he got to see most of his friends. However, as time had passed and new families had begun to form from the Weasleys, attendance had fallen slightly. Now, it was rare for them to eclipse twenty people and two of their members, Neville and Kingsley, rarely appeared anymore, both due to their extremely busy work schedules.

Kingsley had been an admittedly aloof Minister of Magic at the beginning of his tenure. Prior to his appointment to the Minister's position, he had been an Auror, not a politician of any kind, and he had expressed a disinterest in politics a number of times over the years before his appointment at the end of the war. Of course, that is why he had been given the job. As time had passed and the Ministry's focus slowly pulled away from the war and its aftermath, Kingsley had a choice to make. He could resign and allow a more political person to be appointed to replace him or he could dig in and involve himself in the politics of the Ministry.

He chose the latter and as time had gone on, Kingsley had gone from being a wartime Minister to an effective Minister in his own right. He had lead the charge in ensuring the rights of non-Pureblood witches and wizards along with non-human beings (Hermione at his side, of course). Over the last few years, he had pressured the Wizengamot to enact legislation that would disband the assembly in the year 2010 when it would be replaced by two smaller bodies: The Senate and The Court. Each body would consist of nine elected officials who would serve the Ministry by making laws and deciding criminal cases, respectively.

Needless to say, running a country, even one that was being run well, was an intense job and as a result, most of Kingsley's non-political social life had gone by the wayside, including his dinners with the Weasleys.

Almost at the same time, Neville's life had been flipped upside down. After the war, Neville had joined Ron and Harry in enlisting in the Auror Training Program. Not surprisingly, he had passed the final tests with flying colors. In fact, Neville would have owned the highest score in the history of the test if not for the fact that Ron and Harry also took the test that year. In fact, all three of them shattered the previous record for the highest score ever obtained in the test with Harry becoming the first person to ever earn a perfect score.

While Ron had left the Aurors after three years, it had taken Neville six years before he found something else to do. During that time, Neville was widely regarded as one of the best Aurors in the Office. While Harry and Ron had served on a number of special teams in the search for the Death Eaters, Neville had instead been chosen to serve as an interrogator. His sharp mind and generally poor reputation among the Death Eaters made it easy for Neville to manipulate them by allowing them to think that they were in charge. Only when Neville had gotten the information that he had wanted did they know just how wrong they had been.

Neville had been a great Auror and seemed like he was on track for a leadership position. That is until it was made public that Pomona Sprout would be retiring from Hogwarts. Less than twenty-four hours later, Neville had already submitted his resignation from the Auror Office, having won the job by literally taking his application to Hogwarts and explaining in excruciating detail why he was the best person for the job. It had taken McGonagall about ten minutes after he had left to send him a letter, offering him the job.

Two weeks later, he started at Hogwarts. By all accounts, if he had been a good Auror, he was an excellent teacher, especially once his students learned that, despite being a hero of the Second Wizarding War, he had not been a particularly talented student in his own right.

About a year ago, Neville had been named the Head of Gryffindor House. From that day on, Neville's social life had disappeared as he was now required to stay at the castle during the school year. Apparently, the professors of Hogwarts had mostly lived in Hogsmeade and been able to leave as they wished, assuming they were not assigned castle patrols that evening. However, the four Heads of Houses were required to stay at the castle with the exception of a few hours on Sunday afternoon. Considering Neville had his own grandmother to visit, he had been unable to come and visit the Weasleys at all during the last year.

With those two missing, they still numbered at least twenty-four who could reasonably be expected to attend on any given Sunday. That particular Sunday, a hot, humid day in early June, there were exactly twenty of them. Apparently, Teddy had come down with a fever earlier in the day and Andromeda had decided to keep him home. The other two missing members were Hagrid, who was on vacation in France with his "not-wife" Olympe Maxime, and Charlie, who was in Romania for a month coordinating with the dragon reserve he had previously worked at, this time as an emissary for the British Ministry of Magic.

Still, even with all those people missing, twenty people was not a small number at all. As dinner began and everyone took their seats, Harry looked around the room and couldn't help but smile. Ten years earlier, this group had numbered only eight after Fred's death. Now, they were more than three times that number, an already massive family surrounded by others who loved them. Arthur and Molly, whose hair had finally gone completely grey over the last decade, sat at their usual places at the end of the table. To their left was Bill and Fleur, who held their youngest child, a widely adventurous three-year-old named Aimee, in her lap. Brian, who looked like an eight-year-old version of his father and Dani, a five-year-old carbon copy of her mother, sat next to their parents, each of them doing their very best to annoy the other.

Past them was Percy and his girlfriend, Elizabeth. This was Percy's fourth girlfriend in as many years. Unfortunately, all of them seemed to have the same complaints: Percy was boring and worked too much. At first, Percy had been angry at the slight. Now, he knew that it was true. Thankfully, Elizabeth, who worked with Percy in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, appeared to be just as dedicated and boring as he was, a perfect fit.

Ron and Gabrielle sat next to them, Ron chatting with Viktor as Hermione talked at Gabrielle about some new piece of legislation for centaurs she was working on. The moment when Ron and Gabrielle had "revealed" that they were dating had been one of the funniest moments in Harry's life. From the moment Gabrielle, invited to dinner by her older sister, had sat next to Ron, it was clear to everyone in the room that they were interested in each other. Gabrielle and Fleur's mother had passed away just a few years after the end of the war so Gabrielle, along with her father, had moved to England just after she had finished school where she had gotten a job with Department of International Magical Cooperation.

For months, Ron and Gabrielle had danced around announcing their clearly developing relationship. They would often both disappear for long stretches of time during family dinners and Harry had even walked in on the pair of them in an incredibly compromising position in the broom closet by the grove where they had played Quidditch as children. Needless to say, Harry did not need to ride one of those brooms ever again.

When they did finally make the announcement, everyone breathed a sigh of relief for two reasons. First, they could finally admit that they all knew about Ron and Gabrielle. But second, everyone was relieved that Ron had finally moved on. For two years after the war, Ron and Hermione had dated. They had even moved in together, living in a small flat near the Ministry. Unfortunately, things just didn't seem to work out and they eventually decided that they should each go their separate ways.

Both Ron and Hermione had publicly stated that their break-up was mutual. However, Harry knew for a fact that their breakup had not been mutual, although the true reason behind the dissolution of their relationship was a secret that he would likely take to his grave. In the end, it didn't matter what they had said; Ron's behavior told everyone all they needed to know.

For months after they had separated, Ron had hid himself away from the world, only making the rarest of appearances. It was clear that he still held a candle for Hermione. He even refused to come to Sunday dinners for nearly three months, out of fear that he would see Hermione, although, of course, he never admitted that to anyone.

Ron's relationship with Gabrielle had been his first since Hermione and was a sign that maybe he was finally able to move on from Hermione. It had taken quite a while but his relationship with Hermione had eventually recovered. Now, things between Ron and Hermione were as good as they had ever been.

On the other side of Molly and Arthur sat Angelina and George along with their two children, Fred and Kat. Fred was seven and every bit the troublemaker that his father had been while Kat was only two and a half years ago. Still, she was already every bit as charismatic as both of her parents. To be honest, Harry was more concerned about Kat's propensity for trouble-making than her brother's.

There had been a point in time where it looked as if George would never have the family that he had today. After Fred's death, he sank into a deep depression, one that his family worried he would never come out of. For months, no one other than the Weasleys themselves saw George and even then, they only saw him for a few minutes a week. As time passed and George showed no sign of improvement, the family repeatedly attempted to reach out to him to no avail.

Thankfully, Ron ran into Angelina in November of that year and when she asked him how George was doing, he had been honest with her. That night, Angelina showed up on George's doorstep. To this day, no one knows exactly what she had said to him. All anyone knew was that the next day, he showed up to work at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes for the first time since early June. He showed up the day after that as well and eventually, he returned to work full-time, bringing the venture that he had started with his brother back from the brink of bankruptcy.

At the same time, Angelina's intervention in George's life had seemingly shaken him out of his malaise. Their first date had occurred roughly a month after Angelina's visit to George's flat. Their wedding day was two years later: December 21, 2000. For nearly three months after their wedding, George and Angelina traveled the world, visiting Peru, Brazil, and Argentina before returning home.

While they had been away, George had an idea: he wanted to start distilling his own firewhiskey. Apparently, Fred had always wanted to own a bar that served his own homemade firewhiskey. So, to honor his brother, George opened The Jester, a high-end wizarding establishment in the heart of Diagon Alley. Unlike other high-end wizarding establishments, the bar was open to anyone and had no rules regarding the Blood Status of their patronage. One year later, George debuted Fred's Finest, the one and only firewhiskey to be sold at The Jester.

Harry had tasted many a firewhiskey over the years but none compared to Fred's Finest. Whether it was the actual taste or the meaning behind its very existence, Harry had never had a drink quite like Fred's Finest. Which was exactly what he had told George, who immediately asked Harry if he could use that line to advertise. Now, the bottle came with the words "You've never had a drink like it" under the title and Harry's face adorned most of the advertising for the bar and firewhiskey.

At the same time that George was opening his bar, Angelina had finally been signed to a professional Quidditch contract. At first, she had played for the Pride of Portree, who barely played her at all. After two years of sitting on the sideline, she was signed to a contract with the Wimbourne Wasps and immediately made the starting lineup for the club. Angelina did her best to ensure that Portree regretted ever letting her go. She had been on her way to an excellent first season when she had discovered that she was pregnant with Fred.

After Fred's birth, she had returned to the pitch with a passion. Since joining the Wasps, Angelina had completed five seasons with two shortened by the birth of Fred and Kat. In all five of those seasons, Angelina had been named one of the Top Chasers in the British and Irish Quidditch League, something that only one other player could claim.

Of course, that other player was also in the room. While Angelina had won two League Championships with the Wasps, there was no question who the League's best Chaser was. Ginny had signed with the Holyhead Harpies just days after the Battle of Hogwarts. Despite the fact that she had missed the first third of the season, she ended up sixth in goals scored. In every year since then, she had finished either first or second in goals scored and had been the League's Most Outstanding Player four times, including the last three years in a row.

Harry couldn't help but be happy for Ginny. Her dream had always been to play for the Harpies and she had achieved that. Unfortunately for Ginny, one of her other dreams had been to marry Harry Potter and that hadn't quite turned out the way anyone had expected. After the war, Harry and Ginny had immediately gotten together. If you asked Harry today why they had done that, Harry was quite certain that neither of them would give you an answer besides "it's what we thought we had to do."

Unfortunately, that's not a good enough reason to stay together. While Ginny was blowing up the Quidditch League, Harry was becoming the youngest Senior Auror in the history of the Auror Office. Likely because of their mutual success, their relationship floundered. They barely saw each other and when they did, they were often too tired to do anything more than eat dinner and then fall asleep. They never got angry or fought, not anymore than any other normal couple would.

Instead, one day about a year and a half after the war had finally ended, Harry and Ginny looked at each other and realized they weren't in love anymore. Certainly, they loved each other and they always would. To this day, Ginny was one of his closest friends, something that he earnestly hoped never changed. But, the fact remained that they were no longer the couple they had been when they were sixteen. Too much had changed over that time.

When their relationship had ended, Harry had almost been relieved. Then, nine months later, she married Dean Thomas in a private ceremony in Holyhead. While Harry never said it himself, more than one person wondered if Ginny had been unfaithful. Harry refused to acknowledge their comments but inside, he did ask the same question. Finally, Harry came to the conclusion that it didn't matter. She may have cheated on him, she may not. But their relationship had been over far before they had officially ended it and they both had known it.

A month after Ginny's wedding, Harry invited her out to lunch and from that day on, they had been as close as they had ever been.

Things were as stable as they had ever been for the Weasleys and their adopted family. Of course, there was one problem left in the eyes of quite a few people in the room: Harry was "alone." Nevermind the fact that he had more family and friends than he knew what to do with. Nevermind the fact that if Harry wanted to do something, he had a list of over twenty people he could owl and within an hour, he would get a response with a time that he could come over. No, Harry didn't have a wife or a girlfriend and for some, that was a problem. Of course, Hermione wasn't bothered by that because she knew that Harry preferred a more solitary existence. Luna was also fine with it because it meant that she wasn't the only one who came to these gatherings without a date.

Of course, Harry had noticed that Luna lived alone and no one seemed to bother about it. Harry assumed that had more to do with the fact that Luna still had her father to nag her about getting married whereas Molly, in particular, viewed Harry as her son in everything but blood. Almost every single Sunday, Molly would attempt to dig into his personal life, trying to see if he had gone on a date. It had gotten so bad that Arthur had nearly yelled at her to leave him alone on one particularly memorable Sunday about two years earlier.

In truth, Harry wasn't seeking a partner. To be honest, he had them already in Hermione and Ron. If he needed anything, they were there, just as they had been since Halloween 1991. More than once, Harry had owled Hermione after a particularly hard day at the office. While anyone else would have ignored his owl at such a late hour, Hermione showed up within ten minutes without fail. And on a bi-weekly basis, Harry and Ron blew off some steam by grabbing a drink at The Jester and then going to a Cannons game. As usual, The Cannons usually lost but their mission (an evening each week out of the house to relax) was accomplished with ease.

As dinner finished up, Viktor, who had practice early the next morning bid everyone farewell as did Bill, Fleur and Charlie. At the same time, Ginny and Dean moved into the living room for a game of Exploding Snap. So, while Percy and Arthur talked about some relentlessly boring Ministry edict that Percy had barely managed avoiding throughout dinner (a rule had been established years ago that no Ministry talk was to occur during dinner) and Molly cleaned up (over the years, there had been multiple attempts to help her clean up. Unfortunately, she usually ended up forcing everyone out of the kitchen for ruining her incredibly organized kitchen), Harry and Ron marched out to the pond, followed by Luna, Gabrielle, and Hermione.

"How's business?" Harry asked.

"It's slowing down. Summers are always rough for us. Of course, George's shop will pick up the slack."

"It'll be nice to have him home before dinner," Gabrielle replied. Unlike her sister, Gabrielle had been exposed to English society early enough in life that her accent was almost impossible to place.

"What's that like?" Harry asked as he made his way to his usual place among the chairs at the edge of the pond. Harry and Ron, no matter the time of year, always spent some time after dinner by the pond, usually with a bottle of Fred's Finest. Tonight, however, Gabrielle had brought a bottle of wine given to her by her father a few months earlier.

"You'd find out if you worked less," Hermione commented. "Also, you could accept my dinner invitation."

"First, I resent the idea that you think I work more than you," Harry said, his finger pointed at Hermione in jest. "Second, I work late because that's when most of the wizarding world decides they need to do stupid things and third, I don't accept your dinner invitations because neither of us can plan a time to do them."

"That's not true. I had dinner at home three times last week."

"At what time?"

"What does that matter?" Hermione asked, clearly deflecting the question.

"Because we both know that you had dinner at nine o'clock before climbing into bed so that you could be back at the Ministry at five in the morning."

"What's your point?"

"First, dinner at nine o'clock is hardly dinner. It's basically a midnight snack," Harry said. When Hermione went to interject, he pressed on. "Second, I work until ten or eleven most nights. Last time I checked, it would be frowned upon for the most Senior Auror in the Office outside the Head Auror to leave in the middle of an investigation into the sale of an incredibly dangerous dark artifact to go home and have dinner."

"You investigate that kind of thing every day?" Luna asked.

"Usually it's an accident," Ron replied. "Someone gives their granddaughter some family heirloom and it turns out to be cursed. Lots of paperwork and lots of headache for almost no excitement."

"That's why Ron got out." Harry added. "No excitement, much like Ron himself."

"Tosser," Ron growled while everyone chuckled at Harry's remark. Then, he turned back to Luna.

"It wasn't only that. I was tired of being broke. Auror pay is shit," Ron replied to the uproarious laughter of everyone gathered. As they reached the pond, Harry and Ron withdrew their wands and, with a quick flick, conjured a chair for each of the others and then lit a small bonfire in between them. Gabrielle took the bottle of wine and split it among the five of them, conjuring beautiful crystal glasses out of thin air.

Even though it was the end of May, it was a remarkably chilly evening with a fog already beginning to roll over the water in front of them. To that end, Harry found himself incredibly thankful for the fire and the wine to keep him warm.

"Speaking of your work," Ron said as he finished his first glass, "what have you been up to, Hermione?"

"Nothing much."

"Isn't that what she said when she got Kingsley to pass the House Elf Rights Bill? Nothing much?" Harry asked Ron, pretending to ignore the roll of Hermione's eyes.

"I think that is pretty much what she said. She had only changed the lives of every house elf until the end of time but it was _nothing much._ "

"Pity we can't all be Hermione Granger, savior of non-humans everywhere!" Ron said as he raised his empty glass to the heavens before pretending to down it. When he came up for air, Harry quickly reached over and refilled his glass.

"Oh, har har, you two are hilarious," Hermione said dryly as she spoke over Harry and Ron's childish chuckles. "In all seriousness, I'm between projects at the moment. I just got finished proposing a series of changes to the Wizard's Code to better reflect our society."

"You mean you're getting rid of all of the Pureblood nonsense that was in there before?" Gabrielle asked.

"How do you know what's in the Wizard's Code?" Harry asked.

"I work for the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Half of my job is telling foreign dignitaries about how screwed up your laws are."

"Hey, you're English too!" Ron replied.

"Technicality," Gabrielle counted. "I may be a British citizen but when I have to go and explain the ridiculous nature of your laws, I suddenly return to my French roots."

"Traitor," Ron muttered into his drink with a smirk. That comment got him flipped out of his chair and dropped onto his back, courtesy of some fancy wandwork from Gabrielle. Ron hit the ground hard, spilling his drink all down the front of him as the rest of his friends simply sat and laughed at his misfortune.

It was moments like these where he felt as far away from May 2, 1998 as he had ever been. To this day, Harry still struggled with the war. He struggled with the guilt he felt over the dozens of deaths that had occurred before Harry had been able to stop Riddle. More than once, Hermione had told Harry that it wasn't his fault. Harry knew that she was right but apparently his subconscious disagreed.

But on Sunday evenings, surrounded by those that he loved, he could almost let that feeling wash away. He knew that it would never truly be gone. He knew that he would struggle with those demons for the rest of his life. But for a few hours, once a week, he could let them go for a few hours.

That is until the rest of the world came barging back in to disrupt that sensation of freedom. As Harry laughed at Ron's attempt to get up without spilling the rest of his drink, Harry felt his pocket vibrate. Immediately, Harry cursed to himself as he stood up and walked away from the rest of the group before pulling the mirror out of his pocket. Over the last few years, the wizarding world had begun to adapt some Muggle technologies into their world. One such adaptation had been the cellular telephone. While telephones were still not a thing in the wizarding world, they had adapted small hand mirrors, much like the one that Sirius had given Harry years earlier, to be their magical counterparts. Each mirror could be charmed to contact other mirrors, assuming the recipient accepted the contact.

The mirror in Harry's pocket was attached to only a few other mirrors and none of them were friends or family. Harry held the mirror up in front of his face as he got outside an earshot of the others and then nodded his head, the signal that Harry was allowing this "caller" to access his mirror. Not surprisingly, the mirror immediately displayed the image of one of his Junior Aurors, Elaina Andrews. Elaina had been an Auror for going on five years now and was one of Harry's favorite co-workers. She was intelligent, engaging and had enough of a sense of humor to get him through the day.

"Yes?" Harry growled, not bothering to hide his annoyance. He knew that Elaina wouldn't have contacted him if it wasn't important. She was well aware of what had happened the last time someone had wasted Harry's time during a Sunday dinner.

"I am incredibly sorry to bother you, Auror Potter, but we need your assistance," Elaina replied, clearly bothered by something.

"With what?"

"There's been a...death."

"A death?" Harry asked, looking over his shoulder to ensure that none of his friends had heard him before taking a few more steps away from them. "What do you mean, a death?"

"To be honest, I'm not certain. This is something I've never seen before."

Harry cursed silently to himself. The life of an Auror was not particularly exciting but even still, Elaina Andrews was not the kind of person to say something like that without meaning exactly what she said.

"Write the address on the mirror. I'll be there in five minutes."

"Yes, sir," Elaina said before her image disappeared and the address for her location, somewhere in Oxford, displayed on the glass in her traditionally perfect handwriting. Harry took a moment to compose himself before going back to the others, all of whom had immediately noticed his absence.

"Is it bad?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, it's bad," Harry confirmed. "Sorry, I have to go."

"We understand. Nature of the job, right?" Ron suggested.

"Right." Harry said before quickly hugging everyone and then walking to the edge of the wards, which were still up, even ten years after the war, and Apparating to the address Elaina had given him. Immediately, Harry noticed that they were only a few blocks away from Oxford University. Considering the issues they had with some of the intellectuals from Oxford nearly discovering the wizarding world over the years, the area surrounding Oxford was effectively a no-go zone, meaning that no witches or wizards were supposed to be living in this area, something that immediately made Harry wonder what he was doing here.

However, it was easy to spot the rest of his colleagues. While out in the Muggle world, the Aurors were tasked to look as much like Muggles as humanly possible. This meant that they were ordered to leave the cloaks and robes at home (which were falling out of style among magical folk anyway, thank Merlin) and dressed similar to Muggle detectives. Still, they each wore a badge with the Ministry of Magic symbol on it, which had Muggle repelling charms on them telling them that they worked for a special branch of Scotland Yard.

Standing outside the front door were two Rookies, Aurors just out of the Auror Training Program, a six month slog through hell. Four out of five people who applied for the Program were rejected and another three out of five would fail to make it through the Program. Once they were done, they were made a Rookie Auror for three years, where another three out of five would drop out before they were promoted to Junior Auror. This was done to ensure the competency of everyone who became an Auror. Without a war on, there was no need for a massive magical police force. Instead, Kingsley and Gawain, in one of the few times that Harry had agreed with his boss, had decided that they would simply be the best, even if there were fewer of them than usual.

The moment Harry started up the steps of the brownstone, the two Rookies snapped into place, which caused Harry to laugh internally. The Aurors were not a military organization, not since the end of the Second Wizarding War anyway. They were detectives, tasked with solving puzzles, conducting interviews, and observing minute details that anyone else would have missed. So, there was no requirement that they snap to attention when a Senior Auror walked by. No, instead this was something they only did whenever Harry walked by.

It was no secret that every Auror wanted to be selected to be a Junior Auror under Harry. At the end of their three years as a Rookie, all the Rookies would be put through their paces in front of the five Senior Aurors. When their week of testing was over, two results were possible, failure or selection by a Senior Auror. The first was rare but did happen and it meant that they could either return to the Rookie Auror rank for another year or they could drop out of the Aurors entirely.

Most Rookies were selected by a Senior Auror and then became a Junior Auror underneath them. Considering that Harry was the highest ranking Auror outside of Robards himself and a legend in his own right, every Rookie was vying for a spot on Harry's team of Junior Aurors, who would most often be assigned to the most exciting and high profile cases, hence the snap to attention as Harry walked through the door.

As he entered the home, he was immediately greeted by the entirety of his Junior Auror team, a team of three who often worked side by side with Harry on his toughest cases. The fact that all of them were here was not a good sign. Harry stood in the doorway and waited for Elaina to come to him, flanked on one side by Manuel Collins, a Junior Auror of less than two weeks time, and Emmett Davies, the younger brother of Roger Davies and an Auror of four years.

"Where are we?" Harry asked the young trio.

"In here," Davies said softly, his voice low as he turned and marched into the next room. Immediately, Harry's eyes began to wander, picking up as many details as he could gather. The room itself was traditionally decorated, matching the classic exterior of the brownstone style house that was popular in the area. Harry could also tell that the owner of the home was a relatively meticulous owner, even among the magical population. Organization was far easier when you could use magic to do this but Harry noticed that her collection of Muggle records, which sat just below her player, was alphabetized, something that could only be done by hand.

However, all of that paled in comparison to the image above the fireplace. There, suspended by the wrists with a set of manacles that had been hastily mounted to the ceiling, was a woman who could have been no more than five years older than Harry himself. Her arms were spread wide and her head hung low, the light in her extinguished forever. As Harry stepped closer to the corpse, he immediately noticed a series of scratches on the mantle of the fireplace, clear indications of where the woman had attempted to rest her feet on it, despite the fact that it was only roughly seven centimeters in width.

The next thing Harry noticed was bleeding and bruising on her wrists, which was visible even from Harry's place on the floor. It was clear that she had attempted to pull herself out of the shackles, even pulling the skin back in places.

"Name?" Harry asked softly.

"Helen Greene," Manuel replied. "She worked at the Ministry."

"Department?"

"Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," Collins fired back as he looked down at the files in his hands. "She had worked there for about six years. Graduated from Hogwarts in '93. Spent three years working in Administrative Services before getting transferred to Magical Sports and games in early '97. She worked there until she took a new job with Magical Creatures in '01."

"What do we know about her?"

"Not much yet, sir," Elaina said firmly. "We know that her mother and father live somewhere in Devon. We'll work on getting a meeting set up with her."

"Don't bother. I'll take care of that," Harry replied.

"Are you sure, sir? I know that you have a lot on your plate."

Harry turned and looked at the three young Aurors, his hand still resting on his grey-bearded chin.

"Do you know how many magical murders there were last year?" Harry asked rhetorically before instantly moving on to answer the question himself. "Six. Six magical people were murdered last year. In all six instances, the perpetrator used clear magical means to kill their target, whether by the Killing Curse or some other Dark spell. On the other hand, this woman, Helen Greene, was _crucified._ "

"Crucified? What is that?" Emmett asked.

"It's a Muggle technique, one used centuries ago to execute criminals," Elaina replied in horror. "The victims were tied or nailed to a cross and then hung in the air. Eventually, they would weaken and their body would collapse, closing off their airway. For hours, they would fight to keep themselves upright. As time passed, they would slowly feel their strength leave them, pushed on by the fact that they were getting less air than usual. Finally, when they couldn't fight it anymore, they would collapse, suffocate and then die a horrible, slow death."

"Merlin…" Emmett muttered to himself.

"Exactly," Harry growled as he turned back to Helen's corpse, looking up at her face. Even in death, Harry could see the awful pain that she had been in when her body had finally been drained of its oxygen, the pain that had eventually lead to her death.

"Above everything else, we need to make sure that it is done right and that means I will be handling this personally. The most important matter is our killer's motive. What could someone have done to possibly deserve this?"

Harry noticed that the room had gone silent at that moment. Turning around, Harry saw that each of his Junior Aurors was pointedly looking away from him, as if they were all afraid to tell him something, which, of course, was their exact fear.

"What is it?"

The three Junior Aurors looked at each other before Manuel and Emmett pushed Elaina forward, urging her to tell Harry whatever it was they had to share. Nervously, she stepped forward and presented Harry with a piece of parchment.

"What is this?"

"Before you got here, we had one of our experts run the usual checks on her wand. Something strange came up."

"Like what?" Harry asked.

Elaina hesitated for a moment, clearly uncertain how exactly to phrase her next sentence.

"The last spells that she cast with her wand were two Banishing Charms, a Hover Charm and two Locking Charms. There was no evidence of any other magic cast in the home at the time and the Apparition Office has no record of anyone Apparating to or from this house. We coordinated with the Muggle police and they used their security cameras to confirm that no one else had been in or out of this house."

"What's your point, Andrews?" Harry barked impatiently.

"Sir, we believe that it was Helen Greene who put those manacles up. She Banished the two anchors into the ceiling before levitating herself into position and then locking the shackles around her wrists."

"And then what?"

"Then nothing, sir. She locked herself into position and then sometime within the next eight to twenty-four hours, she asphyxiated and died. At the moment, everything that we have, all our evidence, it points to Helen Greene doing this to herself."


	3. Discovery

Rarely, at least in Harry's experience, did a case, especially one as violent as this one, make sense at first glance, not unless you were a monster. However, with a more intense examination, the facts usually became easier to understand, the mental puzzle pieces fitting together, as it were. The worst cases weren't the ones that didn't make sense upon initial viewing.

No, the worst ones were the ones that found Harry at his office in the middle of the night, nearly tearing his hair out as he tried to put the pieces of the crime together. So, it was with great frustration that Harry found himself in his office at nearly four in the morning, trying to put the pieces together in his head. Unfortunately, no matter how he tried, they simply would not fit.

Helen Greene had been a thoroughly unremarkable person by any definition of the word. She worked at the Ministry of Magic, not because she had any potential aspirations, but because her family had worked at the Ministry dating back nineteen generations. They had no interest in running for political office or currying favor with those in power, they simply wished to be of service. That made even more sense to Harry when he learned that the entire Greene family had been in Hufflepuff since the very foundation of Hogwarts.

After Harry had learned the details of the case from his team, he had set them upon interviewing every person that Helen came in contact with on a daily basis: friends, family, co-workers primarily. For an entire day, his team had run themselves ragged collecting interviews and anecdotes about Helen, trying to find out what she liked, how she behaved, anything that could lead them in the direction of a motive.

All in all, nearly ninety interviews were conducted over the course of a day and nothing, not one single shred of evidence, that suggested that Helen was involved in anything illegal, suspicious, or untoward in any way. Also, there was no suggestion from anyone, including her previous four boyfriends, that she participated in any sort of sexual behavior that could explain why she had been hung from the ceiling by a pair of manacles.

In fact, all of the information gathered over the last twenty-four hours had painted a rather banal picture. She was never late for work. She rarely drank to excess. She had no criminal record. While she didn't have much in the way of particularly close friends, she also had no enemies to speak of and certainly no one that they spoke to gave off the kind of vibes that would lead any of the Aurors to suspect that they had been the one to murder her.

If it had been clear that Helen had been suicidal, then it was possible that Harry could have believed that she had done this to herself. Nevermind the fact that the method she chose was the most painful and torturous method she could have come up with or that she very clearly tried to stay alive for as long as possible by holding herself up on the fireplace mantle. Harry could have overlooked all of that if Harry had found just one piece of evidence that said that she wished to harm herself.

But Harry had looked through everything she had written for her work, including interdepartmental memos and all the files with her signature on it, and found nothing. His team had found a stack of letters from friends that she had kept over the years and not a single one of them mentioned any sort of struggle with suicidal or self-injurious thoughts.

Finally, Harry had personally stumbled upon her diary while searching her home office. While there were many parts of his job that Harry enjoyed, reading the private thoughts of someone who had been killed was most assuredly on the list of things that Harry hated about his job. Still, he knew that there would be valuable information about her mental state in the book, a direct pipeline from Harry's mind to Helen's.

So, after everyone had left the Office, Harry had opened the journal and began to read. However, any anticipation that Harry had felt prior to opening the book was gone within the first few pages. There was nothing in there. In fact, Helen's internal monologue was just as boring and rote as her day-to-day life had been.

Still, Harry had pressed on, anticipating some sort of tragic event that would explain a drastic change in behavior. But after nearly six hours of reading Helen's perfectly spaced text, nearly three hundred pages of script, there was nothing. On the morning of her death, Harry read an entry that detailed Helen's worry over whether or not she would get a raise at the end of the year before briefly dovetailing into a open-ended question regarding the recent uptick in witches and wizards caught smuggling dragon eggs into Ireland, making a note to talk to her superior about amending the Wizard's Code to appropriate reflect the sanctions that the International Wizarding Confederation had agreed upon in April.

When he finally finished reading the book, Harry closed it and threw it onto his desk in frustration, causing it to slide off the edge of his desk and onto the floor, making a loud smacking noise that echoed down the empty hall outside his office. Grumbling to himself, Harry stood and walked around his desk, picking up the book and setting back on his desk before returning to his chair, which rolled back several inches as he collapsed into it.

It had been almost thirty-six hours since Harry had been called to the crime scene and simply put, the pieces didn't fit. There was nothing in her personal life, nothing in anything that Harry or his staff had read over the last day that suggested that Helen Greene would have had any interest in handcuffing herself to the ceiling, whether it was for punishment or pleasure or a little of both.

But all of the information present at the scene suggested exactly that. There was no record of anyone having been at Helen's home, other than Helen herself. There was ample evidence, based on the report from the wand specialist, that told Harry that she was the one who mounted the manacles to the ceiling and then placed herself in them. There was no evidence of any kind of altercation or anything that would lead Harry to believe that she had been attacked in any way.

Harry spent the next several hours avoiding sleep as he so often did when a case like this came across his desk. Although, if he was being honest with him, nothing quite like this had ever come across his desk. This was violent and cruel and something beyond the simple marital spats or "business deal gone bad" scenarios that Harry had dealt with over the years.

Still, Harry knew that sleep was not going to be his friend. On nights like this, nights where Harry was forced to confront the possibilities on the worst a person could be, Harry's own haunted past rose from its grave to visit him while he slept. More than once, he had awoken from a restless night, certain that someone who had been dead for years had been there only moments earlier.

The worst instance occurred when Harry had stayed at The Burrow the night before George and Angelina's wedding. That night, Lee Jordan had organized a wandering tour of Muggle London for all of George's groomsmen that just so happened to include some of the best bars and pubs in all of London. By the time they had all returned to The Burrow, none of them could stand up straight, let alone negotiate the stairs, so most of them had simply collapsed on a piece of furniture in the living room.

At just after three in the morning, Harry, likely due to the dangerous combination of alcohol, stress, lack of sleep and the memory of the last wedding that had taken place at the Burrow, woke everyone in the house, screaming for Sirius to come back. It had taken Ron and George nearly ten minutes to bring Harry back from his dreams and into the world of reality where Sirius had been dead for nearly four years.

It had been one of the most embarrassing nights of his life. In fact, Harry had considered not attending the wedding after that moment, worried that everyone would be more concerned for his mental state than with making sure that the wedding was a fun and happy affair. Surprisingly, it had been Angelina who had convinced Harry that he should come.

"Harry, without you, none of us are here," she said after she had barged into the backdoor of the Burrow, grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him out to Arthur's shed.

"Without you, Voldemort wins. I can't even imagine what it was like for you. I know that you saw more death than any of us. I also know that you aren't the only one who dreams of people who aren't here anymore. George still talks to Fred in his sleep like he's here. I've heard that Arthur still has horrible dreams."

"But no one reacts like I do," Harry replied.

"Harry, none of us went through what you went through. You, more than anyone else, are entitled to cope however you choose. Just know that when you decide that you want to talk, there will always be one of us here to talk to you."

Thankfully, that had been years ago and Harry hadn't had an episode of that severity since but that didn't mean that there still weren't nights where Harry woke up and needed to remind himself that he couldn't possibly have spoken to Albus Dumbledore because Albus Dumbledore had been dead for eleven years.

As the middle of the night turned to early morning and finally the start of the typical work day, Harry gathered his things and walked towards the exit, fighting against the waves of people walking into the building. If reading the thoughts of a dead woman was on the list of things that Harry hated about his job, then what he was about to do was at the very top of his list.

Harry walked to the Atrium, where a specific Apparition point had been established, and turned on the spot. When he finished spinning, he was glad to see that he had landed in Topsham, a small town in Devon where Mr. and Mrs. Andrew and Katherine Greene lived in a modest, two bedroom home. Harry sighed deeply, staring at the front door which was just on the other side of the waist-high fence that separated the house from the pavement where Harry stood. He wanted nothing more than to return to the Ministry and continue working on finding out what exactly happened to Helen Greene.

But Harry knew that this was something that needed to be done. Pushing through the front gate, Harry approached the door and gave it a gentle knock. No more than ten seconds later, the door opened to reveal Andrew Greene, a well preserved man in his late fifties. He had grey hair that was almost white that Harry imagined was normally immaculately placed, given normal circumstances.

However, as Harry noticed the redness in his eyes, Harry knew that this was nowhere near normal circumstances.

"Mr. Greene, I am Senior Auror Harry Potter," Harry said as he withdrew his badge from his jacket pocket and showed it to Andrew. "I am the Auror in charge of the investigation. May I come in for a moment?"

It was at this moment that Harry realized that Andrew wasn't looking at his eyes. Instead, Andrew's eyes had focused directly on the fading scar on Harry's forehead, a clear indication that he was, in fact, who he said he was.

"Mr. Greene?" Harry asked, causing Andrew's gaze to snap back to Harry's. "May I come in?"

"Certainly," Andrew said in a surprisingly meek voice as he stepped aside to allow Harry to enter the home. His eyes quickly scanned the environment around him. Harry immediately noticed that Helen seemed to have inherited a similar style in decoration from her parents as the homes were remarkably similar once you were on the inside. The large difference was that there was no fireplace in the living room.

Altogether, Harry didn't think this was a bad thing.

Andrew's wife, Katherine, was seated in a large plush chair in the far corner of the room, absently staring out the window behind her. It was clear that she had once been a stunning woman but time, and the untimely death of her daughter, had sapped her of the life that had made her such a beauty.

"Katherine, this is-"

"I know who he is," Katherine snapped, her eyes never looking away from the window. "He sent the letter last night."

"I...I did."

"What have you discovered?" Katherine said, still refusing to look Harry in the eye.

Harry took a seat on a long beige couch that sat next to where Katherine sat, setting his briefcase in front of him. Andrew sat next to Harry and he couldn't help but notice the immediate difference between the two of them. Andrew seemed to hang on every word that Harry said while his wife acted as if she couldn't be bothered to even acknowledge his presence.

"First, let me start by saying that I am deeply sorry for your loss. I'm not a parent but I cannot imagine what it must be like for the two of you. If there's anything you need-"

Finally, Katherine turned to Harry and it was in this moment that Harry noticed two things. The casual indifference that Harry had noticed when he had first addressed her must have been a trick of the light or something. The woman in front of Harry was anything but indifferent. If anything, she was incandescent, burning with a rage that she seemed barely able to contain.

And now that she had turned to face Harry, he also noticed the tears streaming down her face and the evidence of the tears that clearly hadn't stopped falling since she had heard the news the day before.

"Do you know what I need you to do, Auror Potter? I need you to find the person who killed my daughter and I need you to string them up in the street like we used to do with criminals! I need you to find them and when you find them, don't you worry about putting them in Azkaban. You put them in a hole in the ground. Do you hear me? Put them down."

Katherine Greene was not the first person to express her rage to Harry when he spoke to them. In fact, it was a relatively common reaction. What was different about this was that Katherine's voice never raised above a tense whisper. She said everything with such focus and intensity that Harry knew without a shadow of a doubt that if Katherine ended up face to face with whoever did this to her daughter, Katherine would do exactly what she had asked Harry to do.

"I understand," Harry said, knowing that there was no answer that he could give her that would satisfy her blood lust. "I just wanted to tell you where we are in our investigation."

"Did you find anything?" Andrew asked desperately.

Harry paused, knowing that he had to tell them the truth while simultaneously wishing that he could tell them the fairy tale they wanted to hear.

"Head Auror Robards asked me to pursue this investigation in two different ways. The first, he wanted me to look into who would have any potential motive for killing Helen," Harry said slowly, knowing that what he was about to tell them would likely set Katherine off again.

"Over the last thirty-six hours, my team of Aurors have conducted eighty-eighty interviews with friends, colleagues and other members of your family. Unfortunately, we have been unable to identify any potential suspects. Your daughter was well-liked by her colleagues, had few friends but even fewer enemies, and, as far as our research as turned up, there is nothing in either of your family histories that would suggest that this is some kind of retribution."

"You said that you had to look at this two ways? What was the other?"

Harry paused again, thinking of how to put this in the most delicate fashion.

"The state in which Helen was found strongly...suggests that she did this to herself."

As expected, Katherine was not particularly happy to hear this. Unlike before, she did not restrain herself. Instead, she stood and Harry quickly realized that Katherine Greene was a surprisingly tall woman as she towered over Harry, barking at him.

"My daughter did not kill herself! Someone killed her! Do you hear me? I will not have my daughter's memory poisoned by the suggestion that she did this to herself! If you came here to tell us that you think my daughter killed herself, then you can get the fuck out of my house!"

"Katherine!" Andrew said, throwing himself in between Harry and Katherine. Katherine looked as if she was going to strangle her husband before thinking better of it and collapsing into her chair and returned to staring out the window. Harry gave the pair a moment to collect themselves before he continued on, his voice soft as he spoke of such horrible things.

"I agree with you, Mrs. Greene," Harry said softly but firmly. "Did you know that Helen had a diary?"

Andrew nodded. "She's kept one since the day she got her letter to Hogwarts."

"As part of the investigation, I reviewed her most recent diary," Harry said, moving on quickly in fear that Katherine would interrupt him in anger. "The writing in that diary is not consistent with someone that wanted to harm herself. I have little doubt that someone did this to her. The only problem is that all of the physical evidence points in a different direction."

"If you don't believe that she killed herself, what are you planning on doing next?"

"I told you that my team of Aurors has been interviewing people ever since we discovered Helen's body. However, we've only managed to interview the people that we know would have some sort of personal connection to her: former classmates, colleagues, et cetera. However, we don't know who Helen interacted with on a personal basis. Her diary was surprisingly light on names of friends and even lighter on names of potential partners. Do either of you know anyone that she might have interacted with that could have done this? Anyone that you felt gave off a bad vibe?"

Immediately, Andrew and Katherine looked at each other, a knowing look on both of their faces. Andrew turned back to Harry and spoke deliberately.

"We didn't know him."

"Him? Him who?" Harry asked.

"We can't even tell you his name," Andrew admitted. "A few weeks ago, Helen had come home for dinner. Helen was a writer, not a talker, so it was rare for her to talk about what was going on in her life."

"I'm guessing that she was a bit more talkative that night."

It was Katherine who answered Harry's question.

"She wouldn't stop talking about him. He was older than her and he had been working abroad for years. He had only returned to England recently. It was clear that Helen was smitten with the man but when we asked for more information, Helen wouldn't talk about that. She just told us how he made her feel and the things that they had done."

Harry knew what he would have to ask next. He hated even considering it but he knew that the question needed to be asked.

"Did she mention any sort of strange activities?"

"Strange activities? How so?" Andrew asked.

"He means anything sexual," Katherine replied before turning back to Harry. "No, nothing."

"Anything that would lead you to believe that he was abusive? Dangerous?"

"We knew nothing about the man. Even the activities she described didn't tell us much about him. They were normal dates or at least they seemed normal at the time. Looking back, there might have been something you missed."

"I strongly doubt that, Mrs. Greene," Harry replied as he stood. "If I'm right, then Helen might have been Imperused by her attacker. If that is true, then she wouldn't have been able to tell you anything about him."

Harry walked to the door, escorted by Andrew and Katherine. When he opened it, he turned back to the grieving parents, each of whom shook his hand.

"Do you think he'll attack again?" Andrew asked as he let go of Harry's hand.

"I wish I knew the answer to that," Harry said with genuine angst in his voice. "Thank you for your cooperation and I'm sorry that I don't have better news for you. If you think of anything, anything at all, feel free to send me an owl."

"We will," Katherine said before adding, "and Mr. Potter, I'm sorry for my behavior."

"There's no need, Mrs. Greene. While I've never lost a child, I've lost others close to me. In some of those situations, I wish I had acted with as much restraint as you showed today."

Harry left the Greene residence, knowing that he had likely inflicted another fresh wave of trauma upon Andrew and Katherine. He returned to his office, where he sat for nearly forty minutes, staring at the wall opposite him. It was moments like these that Harry wished he could cry. On rare instances, he did, but most of the time, he simply stared, trying to feel the same kind of pain that he had felt when he had personally lost someone. Ten years of war and ten years of dealing with the worst criminals the wizarding world had to offer had sapped most of his ability to truly feel that kind of pain. Now, all he felt was emptiness.

At just about three o'clock, Harry finally stood and marched down the hall to the largest conference room in the Office where the rest of his Auror team sat, surrounded by mountains of files and evidence that they had gathered in the last several days. As Harry's eyes passed over each of them, he noticed that they all looked as if they needed nothing more than a hot shower and a long nap. Unfortunately, he knew that wouldn't come for any of them until they figured how exactly Helen Greene had died.

Harry took his seat at the front of the room before opening the folder that had been placed in front of him. He glossed over the interviews and the crime scene reports quickly before looking up at the others.

"Where are we?"

All three of his Junior Aurors looked at each other before turning back to Harry, shrugging at him. Harry sat and waited while they all took a moment to formulate their thoughts. Eventually, it was Elaina who finally spoke.

"As you can see, we've had Aurors working around the clock to compile all of the information that we've collected."

"What information have we collected?" Harry asked. "I've found effectively nothing so I'm hoping that you lot were more successful."

Another look between the three of them told Harry all he needed to know. When Elaina opened her mouth to apologize, Harry raised a hand to stop her.

"I've never experienced such a dearth of valuable information in my life, especially in a situation where neither side of the story seems to make any sense. That being said, save your apology. It doesn't serve any purpose other than to make you feel better. Right now, none of us should feel good until we figure out just what the hell happened to Helen Greene."

Harry knew that he was being harsh but he also knew what would happen to all of them if they were unable to solve this. Everyone knew about Gawain Robards' legendary temper and how it applied to Harry. Unfortunately, that also meant that any Auror that was selected for his team was also in the crossfire. While Harry's team was the most sought placement among the Junior and Rookie Aurors, it was also the most political, something that made their job even harder.

"Let's start from the beginning and work our way forward," Harry said as he stood and began pacing the room. "She was found in her apartment. As far as we can tell, there was no evidence that anyone broke in."

"In fact, there's no evidence that anyone else was there at all," Manuel added.

"We know that Helen Greene was a relatively plain person," Elaina continued. "We have no evidence that she wanted to harm herself or others."

"We don't know of anyone who would want to harm her either," Emmett said.

"That's not exactly true," Harry replied before filling them in on the mystery man in Helen's life. "At the moment, he's the only real suspect that we have."

"But we don't even know if he exists," Elaina countered. "It's possible that she just made him up."

"That would explain why she was able to give out so little detail about him," Emmett replied.

"Would it?" Harry asked. "If she made him up, she would have been able to fabricate any piece of information she wanted about him."

"Maybe she was a bad liar?"

"Bad liars double down on their lies," Manuel said firmly. "It sounds like she simply refused to give them any more information. If she was lying, she would likely have kept feeding them information until either they figured out that she was lying or until they believed her."

"This means that we can reasonably suspect that Helen was not lying. So why wouldn't she tell her family everything? Was she embarrassed?"

"I doubt she would have been embarrassed," Manuel said. "In fact, if she had really been dating someone, it's likely she would have been proud of it. From what we could tell, she'd never been particularly successful in the relationship department."

"But if she was proud, why didn't she tell them more?" Elaina asked, causing Harry to smile. Most Senior Aurors simply picked from the list of Aurors that had made it past the Rookie ranks. They judged them on their grades or their references but they never bothered to meet them before they selected someone. Harry, on the other hand, was meticulous about interviewing each and every Junior Auror that he could prior to allowing even a single Rookie Auror to join his team.

Over the years since his promotion to Senior Auror, Harry had worked with nearly two dozen Junior Aurors. Most of them required two or three interviews with Harry before he was convinced that they would be a good fit. Elaina Andrews had been the first to walk about of her first interview with a placement and truthfully, she only needed about ten minutes to do so. Harry supposed that it was likely due to her similarity to another bookish friend of his. Elainia was critical and analytical, something that had not made her particularly endearing to the rest of her classmates.

But what made her a bit prickly to others made her a perfect Auror. Within only a few weeks of being on Harry's team, she had quickly made it known that she was not going to tolerate being looked down upon because she was new. Now, she was the most experienced Auror on Harry's team and was likely going to become a Senior Auror the next time a vacancy opened up. Harry would miss having her around but he knew that it was already well overdue.

"That's exactly my question as well, Elaina," Harry said. "I think she wanted to talk about this mystery man but was prevented from doing so."

"Do you think she was Imperused?" Manuel asked.

"That is my best guess at the moment," Harry said. "Unfortunately, our lack of information means that we have to make some educated guesses and see where those take us."

"Why do you think she was under the Imperius Curse?" Elaina asked.

"It's one of the few possibilities that fits the circumstances of the case without contradicting something else. When we found her, she was tied to the ceiling of her sitting room. According to her, she had done it to herself. But if she had done it to herself, why—"

"Why was she trying to escape?" Elaina asked, finishing Harry's thought.

"Exactly," Harry said, jabbing the air with a finger for emphasis. "If she had been placed under the Imperius Curse, this makes more sense. She did put herself in the position that we found her in but not truly of her own initiative. It would also explain why she would mention the man but not give any more specific information."

"But, sir, the Imperius Curse is notoriously difficult to maintain when the subject is under duress. How would it have lasted so long?" Emmett asked.

"It wouldn't have had to last that long," Elaina said, interrupting Harry's attempt at a response. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir."

"Continue," Harry ordered.

"Oh, yes. Well, it would have only needed to last until she was chained up and had released her wand. Once that happened, there would have been nothing that she could have done."

"Fair point," Emmett replied before turning back to Harry. "So, let's say that she was placed under the Imperius Curse. That only confirms that this was a murder. It doesn't give us any more information."

"Unfortunately, you are correct in that regard, Manuel," Harry replied as he returned to his seat. "Still, I think we're all in agreement that the only way to move forward at the moment is to continue with our assumption that this was a murder until we can rule it out."

"We work for you, sir," Manuel replied.

"That's not how this works, Auror Collins, and you know it. I may make the final decision but I want us all on board before we go any further. Manuel, what do you think we should do?"

"Move forward with the murder investigation."

"Elaina?"

"I agree with Auror Collins, sir."

"Emmett?"

"I agree with both of my colleagues and you, sir. We need to see this through."

Despite the severity of their situation, Harry smiled as he rapped the table gently with his knuckles. Harry may have been a force of nature as an Auror, but as a leader, he was never going to allow his personality and influence to overshadow the decision-making process of his team. He wanted leaders, not followers.

"Good. I will inform Auror Robards of our team's decision. For now, dig back into the information we gathered from the interviews. Look and see if we can't find our mystery man hidden somewhere in those pages."

"Will do, sir," Elaina piped up as she started passing out materials to the others. "What will you be doing?"

"I...am going to take some materials with me and go home. If you need me, I'll be working from there tonight."

"Have you been home since we found out about the murder?"

"No," Harry said as a thought suddenly burst to the front of his mind. "What about the three of you? Have any of you been home?"

In unison, all three shook their head at him.

"Each of you take three or four files home with you."

"Sir, we're—" Elaina started before Harry cut her off.

"Going home," Harry said firmly. "I appreciate the hard work you've all put in. But none of us are of any use if we're dead. Go home, read through your materials, then get a shower and some good sleep. I'll see you tomorrow morning at ten."

"Ten?" Emmett asked.

"Like I said, good sleep."

Harry watched all three of them for a moment to ensure that they understood that he was serious. When they finally started gathering their things to leave, Harry left the room, returning to his office. He followed his own advice, only grabbing a few folders to place in his bag, before walking out the Atrium and Apparating back home.

When Harry arrived, his plan had been to read for a bit and then go to bed so that he could get up early and finish reading. However, when he landed outside the front door of his house, he noticed that the light was on. Thankfully, he could also see the bushy mane of his best friend in the window so there was no cause for alarm. Instead, Harry opened the door to see Hermione standing in his kitchen, making some sort of stew.

"Last I checked, you and I weren't married."

"That's still true," Hermione remarked without turning away from the pot on the stove.

"So, why are you in my house and why are you making dinner?"

"Because I know that you haven't been home since before you left for The Burrow Sunday night."

"How do you know that?" Harry asked as he dropped his work items off in his bedroom before returning to the kitchen where Hermione stood with a knowing look on her face. Harry supposed that was really all the answer he needed.

"Fine, so I haven't been home in two days. What's your point?"

"My point is that you need to relax a bit."

"I don't know if you heard but there's a murderer on the loose."

"Actually, what I heard was that a woman who worked in my Department died horrifically."

"Well, they got that part right," Harry muttered. "Anyway, I'm certain people think she killed herself but they didn't see her."

"If there's a murderer on the loose, then you need your rest," Hermione replied. "You also need to eat like a normal human being. I know how you eat when you're working."

"I eat fine."

"You eat fish and chips from that same pub across the street from the guest entrance."

"What's the problem with that? I like fish and chips."

"Fish and chips are fine when they aren't drenched in so much grease that you have to soak it up with a towel before you eat it."

"Quit exaggerating."

"I'm not," Hermione growled. "Anyway, I knew you hadn't been home so I was going to make you dinner."

"How did you know I was coming home?"

"I didn't. This was a nice surprise. I was planning on bringing it to you at the Ministry and then yell at you until you came home."

"That's so thoughtful of you," Harry replied as he took a seat at his small dining table. "How's work going for you?"

"It's insane as usual," Hermione replied as she grabbed the two bowls in Harry's cupboard and ladled some of the stew into each bowl. She set a bowl down in front of Harry before sitting across from him. Now that he could get a good look at her, it was obvious that she was likely as tired as he was. Harry's work operated in strong cycles. When he had a big case, he would often go days without eating well or sleeping at home. But when he rotated off a case, he often only worked a few hours each day and then retreated to his humble home to catch up on the sleep that he had missed.

Unfortunately, Hermione didn't have that luxury. Hermione ran the team of over thirty legislative writers for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Every week, nearly two hundred pieces of legislation were written by her team and then passed to her for quality assessment before they were approved by her Department head to be sent to the Wizengamot for consideration. It was an insanely burdensome job, but one that Hermione was perfectly suited for. But that meant that her work never cycled off. She regularly worked eighty hours a week. About four years earlier, there had been a period of time where Hermione hadn't left the Ministry for just under two weeks, which Harry pointed out every time that Hermione tried to scold him for working too hard.

"That's unfortunate," Harry replied as he ate a spoonful of the stew. Over the years, cooking had become a form of stress relief for Hermione. Harry had once remarked that of all the things that Hermione, the most independent woman he had ever known, could have chosen as a hobby, cooking was probably the last thing he would have expected for her to master. When Hermione had asked why, Harry had reluctantly pointed out the historical stereotype of women in the kitchen.

Hermione's response had been memorable.

"It's just one more thing I can add to my list."

"What list?" Harry had asked.

"Things I do better than Men."

Needless to say, the stew was excellent.

"It is unfortunate but it's the nature of the beast at the moment."

"Have you ever considered looking for a new job?"

"Only every time that I look at the clock as I reach for a new brief, only to see that it's after two in the morning," Hermione replied. "But, there's not many places for me to go right now. I'm not taking a demotion simply to get a normal life again."

"Yes but at least one Department Head spot has opened each year since you joined the Ministry. There's got to be one of those jobs that you would want."

"I do want those jobs, Harry, as does about seventy other people."

"Yes, but those people aren't Hermione Granger," Harry argued. "When was the last time that you applied for a Department Head position?"

"Two years ago when the Magical Accidents and Catastrophes position opened up. Ogden gave the job to McAllister instead of me."

"Yeah, that was not a good choice at the moment and it looks even worse in retrospect."

Michael McAllister had been a member of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes for thirty years when he had been announced as the new Department Head two years earlier. The process for becoming a Department Head was relatively simple: when a Department Head position opened up, any wanting to become a candidate submitted their name and resume to the Senior Undersecretary. Ever since Kingsley had taken over as Minister after the war, Tiberius Ogden had been Kingsley's Senior Undersecretary.

Ogden was also McAllister's father-in-law. Almost everyone argued that Ogden should have recused himself and allowed Amos Diggory, the Junior Undersecretary, to fill the position. Instead, Ogden gave the job to his son-in-law. Less than a year later, McAllister had earned a new nickname: The Catastrophe in Charge of Catastrophes. Unfortunately for everyone, removing a Department Head was significantly more complicated process. As such, McAllister remained in his position, a literal laughing stock who had been hired over both Hermione and Percy Weasley.

Needless to say, Ogden had been more careful about expressing his favoritism since then.

"Exactly. I can only hope that the next position that opens is better than that one. Even if I had gotten the job, I probably would have hated it."

"Silver linings then," Harry replied.

"I suppose."

Harry and Hermione ate in silence for the next few minutes, each of them enjoying the few moments that they could spend not working themselves to the bone. When they finished, Harry grabbed the bowls and took them to the sink where he washed them by hand. Harry used magic for almost everything but dishes was one of the few things he only trusted to the sponge in his hand.

When he was done, Harry turned back to Hermione, who looked as if she was ready to fall asleep at the table.

"Hermione, if you need to stay over, that's fine."

"I'm fine. I'm just tired."

"Clearly," Harry replied. "So how are things with you and Viktor?"

"What do you mean?"

"He came to the Anniversary celebration with you. He went to that party with you prior to that and he came to dinner with you on Sunday. Just seems like things are...progressing for the two of you."

"They're not," Hermione replied. "Viktor and I are friends, just like you and me."

"Just like you and me?" Harry asked.

"Well, not exactly like you and me," Hermione replied. "To be honest, I haven't been interested in Viktor in that way since I was fourteen. He's a good man and he listens."

"Are you saying I don't listen?"

"Harry, you are the literal savior of our world. You are the most prolific investigator in our nation's Auror Office. You may be the most famous wizard on the entire planet. That doesn't mean that you aren't a good listener. It just means that you have problems of your own."

"Viktor doesn't?"

Hermione chuckled softly. "Viktor is a Quidditch player. He works four days a week for six months out of the year and makes more than you, me and Ron combined. Let's just say that he doesn't worry about much anymore."

"Must be nice."

"You're telling me," Hermione replied. "Besides, if Viktor and I were in a relationship, I would have told you."

"I thought so but I just wanted to make sure that you weren't hiding it from Ron."

"Why would I hide it from Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Do you remember what happened when you went on that date with that French diplomat?"

In reaction to the news that Hermione was going out with the French Ambassador to the Ministry of Magic, Ron had effectively shut Hermione out for nearly a month before Harry had finally been able to convince Ron to talk to her again. Ron was embarrassed for his behavior but neither Harry nor Hermione could be certain that he wouldn't react like that again.

"Fair enough," Hermione replied. "No, I was not hiding it from Ron. There's nothing to hide. Viktor and I are friends and we enjoy spending time together. Unfortunately for all of us, we all have insane schedules. Viktor does not. That makes it easier to see him and spend time with him."

"Totally understandable," Harry said as he took a seat across from Hermione. "But seriously, if you need to stay the night, I can make space."

"Where? I can touch both walls in this place from right here."

"That's beside the point. If you want to stay rather than trying to Apparate home when you're already almost asleep, you can."

"While I appreciate the offer, I think I'll pass. Besides, we both have work to do."

"It can wait," Harry said softly.

"That's sweet but we both know that it can't," Hermione replied. "Just make sure that you get some sleep tonight."

"Right back at you."

"I'll do my best."

Hermione stood and waved her wand. Moments later, Harry's bag floated out of the bedroom and onto the table in front of him. Hermione leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Harry's forehead.

"I'll see you later. We should do dinner again next week."

"Sounds good. Let me know when and where and I'll do my best to make it."

"I know you will," Hermione replied as she walked towards the door. "Love you, Harry."

"Love you too, Hermione. I'll see you at work."

"I'm sure you will," Hermione said as the door clicked behind her. Moments later, Harry heard the familiar POP! of Apparition, signifying that Hermione was gone. For a second, Harry allowed himself to miss Hermione. While they saw each other almost every day, Harry rarely got to spend even more than a few minutes with Hermione at work. Her dinner surprise had been a welcome ending to a long, miserable day. Harry allowed that thought to linger for just a moment before he opened the folder in front of him and started reading.

When he finally went to bed around four, Harry couldn't help but wonder if Hermione had looked at the clock at the same time.


	4. Power of the Press

Harry woke up the next morning feeling as refreshed as he could have possibly felt considering that he only ended up getting about three hours of sleep. After a good breakfast and a nice gentle stroll from his Apparition point in the Atrium to his desk, Harry felt like he would be truly ready to dig into the mysterious death of Helen Greene.

Unfortunately, Harry's moderately good mood was immediately ruined the moment that Harry landed at his designated Apparition point. Harry barely had time to react before a series of flashbulbs went off in his face, followed by a series of questions. Ambushed as he was, Harry couldn't hear all of the questions asked. However, they largely boiled down to three questions.

"How long were you planning on waiting before you revealed the details of the investigation into Helen Greene's death?"

"Have you classified Ms. Greene's death as a homicide or suicide?"

"Have you made any arrests?"

Immediately, Harry's blood boiled. Like most law enforcement agencies around the world, the Aurors were not required to report anything to the public, although they usually felt a responsibility to do so. In fact, widely reporting the facts of a case to the public often made their job more difficult. As a result, information was typically passed to the general populace from a specially appointed representative of the Aurors, someone who would deliver this information with care while being careful not to divulge more than absolutely necessary. Usually, this meant that Arthur Weasley as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement or Gawain Robards would make the comment to the press. As far as Harry knew, neither man had yet spoken to the press.

That could mean only one thing: someone, likely one of the Rookie or Junior Aurors looking for some favor with a journalist, had talked. Harry's heart pounded in his ears as he pushed through the mass of people gathered by the Apparition point, refusing to say a word to any of the leeches surrounding him. Eventually, Harry made it through and once he did, Harry marched towards the lift which took him to his office.

Harry had intended to come into work a bit late, allowing his team to sleep in a bit before they dove back into the case. Coincidentally, that meant that almost every Auror was in the office when Harry walked in, slamming the door against the wall as he burst in. Immediately, every head in the room turned towards him, waiting for the inevitable eruption.

Instead, Harry simply said: "Conference Room. Five minutes."

Five minutes later, every single Auror, somehow including those that had not been present when Harry had made his announcement, sat in the conference room, ready for the tongue lashing that was clearly coming.

Harry's head swam as he attempted to collect his thoughts. This kind of incompetence drove him insane. While most of the evidence of the old Auror office had been excised, every so often, an event like this would remind Harry of the mess that he had walked into when he had first become an Auror.

Once Harry sat that everyone was in the room, including Robards, who stood in the back, clearly upset that Harry had called a meeting without his permission, Harry made his way to the front of the room, where he stood behind the podium that was usually used for briefings. This time, Harry placed both of his arms on the front of the podium, which supported his weight as he spoke.

"There's a saying. 'We're only as strong as our weakest link.' In our case, we're only as strong as the information that we keep. Think back to some of our biggest missions. If Dolohov had known that we were coming for him, he would have escaped before we would have even had a chance to go after him. Same with Rookwood and the Lestranges. Information is the most valuable resource that we have. Without it, we are lost."

"As most of you know, two days ago, my team was brought in to investigate a dead woman. Initially, evidence suggested that she killed herself. Now, we think that it's possible that she may have been under the Imperius Curse when she was killed. If we had managed to keep this information to ourselves, we would have had a leg up on a perpetrator who likely believed that they had gotten away with a crime. Hell, we could have even spun the story in the press, telling them that we believed it was a suicide so that the murderer would get sloppy."

"We can't do any of that now," Harry growled, pounding a fist on the podium in front of him, "because someone opened their mouth to a reporter or to someone who talked to a reporter. Intelligence is our most valuable asset and at least one of you showed a noticeable lack of it. The next person that talks to a reporter about a case, especially one that they are not the principal investigator, will be demoted. If you're a Rookie, that means you can either go back to the Auror Training Program or find another profession. I will **not** have this amateur bullshit ruin our chances of bringing someone to justice."

The room was silent as Harry scanned the room. Despite the fact that Harry was talking to the room, Harry had a couple of ideas who may have leaked the information. Flynn Howland, one of Senior Auror Abigail Edison's Rookie Aurors, was notorious for accidentally allowing confidential information slip to the public, having already been warned by Robards twice for such an infraction. If Harry had been in charge, he simply would have fired Howland for gross incompetence.

Harry could only get so lucky.

The other potential candidate was Harry's least favorite recurring nuisance, Zacharias Smith, a Junior Auror under Senior Auror Collin Law. More than once, Smith had attempted to sabotage one of his superior officers as a way to improve his own standing in the Department. Harry couldn't wait for the day that he was named Head Auror or the day that Smith did something so stupid that Robards was forced to fire him. Either way, it would Smith's last day as an Auror. The only reason he was an Auror in the first place was because he had temporarily been a member of Dumbledore's Army, which had been the only qualification for automatic entry into the Auror Training Program and joining the Aurors. He was a terrible Auror, incapable of independent thought and more interested in political machinations than serving justice.

"I'm not going on some sort of witch hunt to find out who leaked this information. However, if this happens again, especially on this case, which just became the most high profile case we've handled in years, then I will set my Junior Aurors on the rest of the Office until we find out who has been sharing information with the press. Trust me when I say that you would rather have been captured by Riddle than come face to face with me after I learned that you were stupid enough to share our intelligence with a goddamn reporter. Now get out of my sight."

No one needed telling twice. Within seconds, the room was empty with the exception of Harry's boss, who waddled right up to Harry, a mildly victorious look on his face. For a moment, Harry considered the possibility that Robards leaked the information to ruin Harry's chances of solving the case. He immediately rejected that idea when he judged just how valuable a case this was going to be, especially to Kingsley. Robards would have made the same calculation, which meant that he would do everything in his power to solve this case quickly.

Unfortunately, that made him almost as dangerous as if he wanted to sabotage Harry.

"Good speech, Potter," Robards said mockingly. "I'm sure glad that we have a Head Auror like you."

The comment was bait and Harry wasn't about to bite. Instead, he simply stood and waited for Robards to continue.

"Where are we on the investigation?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," Harry replied.

"Well, is it a murder or a suicide? What have you found?"

"Did you hear what I just said?" Harry asked scathingly. "Not one minute ago, I told you that we haven't determined that. Were you even listening?"

"Watch your tone, Potter. You may get a wide berth because of Weasley and the Minister but you don't get to talk to me like that."

"You're absolutely right," Harry said, doubling down on the sarcasm. "I'll do my best to speak in smaller words."

Robards immediately froze, rage preventing him from speaking. Harry took that opportunity to press onward.

"Listen, we're still in the information gathering process. I was hoping that we would have another couple of days before the news of the woman's death hit the paper but we clearly don't have that anymore. I'm going to request that Edison's team be reassigned to my case."

"Edison's team isn't the next one on rotation. If you want assistance, you get Collin Law's team."

"We both know that I'm not taking Law's team. I already think that Smith was the one that leaked the information on the Greene murder. I'm not letting him sabotage my case."

"Law's team is the only one that's available."

"For this case? Seriously?" Harry barked back. "I know that you authorized Fawley's team to assist Dawlish two weeks ago. Going by your rules, it should have been my team, which you clearly did not want to do because if I came in and helped, you think that would look bad for you."

"I will not warn you again, Potter, watch your tone," Robards said, almost growling at Harry.

"Listen, I'm not playing your games right now," Harry said. "You want to suspend for insubordination, go right ahead. You can explain to Arthur and the press why you took your best Auror off the most high profile murder not associated with the Death Eaters in the last decade."

Harry had said the magic word. Over the years, Harry had learned that any mention of Arthur Weasley, Gawain's direct superior, gave Harry access to just about anything that he wanted. Robards lived in constant fear that Arthur would fire Robards and replace him with Harry, despite the fact that Kingsley had confirmed to both Harry and Arthur that Kingsley would not allow that to happen unless there was some sort of malpractice on Robards' part.

Still, the thought clearly terrified Robards.

"Fine. But I want a declaration by the end of the week. I don't care whether you declare it a murder or a suicide but we need something to give to the public by then."

"Sir, we both know that may not be possible."

"Then why are you asking for more people? More resources should mean that you get it done quicker, right?"

"More resources mean a better chance that I get it right. But I'm not rushing this case. If we declare it a suicide and then find out later that we were wrong, it's a bad look for us all the way around. If you have a problem with that, then you can take it up with Department Head Weasley."

As expected, Harry's words had the same effect as the first time that he dropped Arthur's name. Robards seemed like he wanted to explode but he also knew that he had been backed into a corner.

"Get out of my sight. Tell Edison that neither she or her team is going to be eating with their family much this week. And figure out who did this. It's not good to have an investigation open with no confirmed suspects."

"Thank you,sir. Will do, sir," Harry said as he gathered his things and raced out the door. Rather than head back to his office, Harry motioned for his team to collect in one of the smaller conference rooms before heading to the office of Senior Auror Abigail Edison. Abbi had been a Ravenclaw two years older than Harry at Hogwarts. However, she hadn't joined the Aurors until after the Battle of Hogwarts. During her time at the Auror Training Program, she had become known for being a particularly aggressive Auror, especially when it came to her dueling. The few times that Harry had dueled Abbi during their practice session had been telling. He had won both of the duels but he had come home with a series of bumps and bruises that had lasted for several days.

But among the other Senior Aurors, Abbi was the one that Harry knew would acclimate to his team best. She had been one of his Junior Aurors prior to her promotion to Senior Auror and much of her demeanor and standard operating procedure was pulled directly from Harry's personal playbook.

When Harry opened her office door, Abbi was in the middle of reading through a massive briefing. Thankfully, Harry was about to bring her something far more interesting.

"Abbi, I need you and your team."

"What else is new?" Abbi replied as she continued reading the file in front of her. "What do you need?"

"I asked Robards to reassign you and your team."

This got Abbi's attention. She finished whatever section she was on before closing her briefing. It took another moment before she looked up at Harry, her brown eyes, which made her closely cut brown hair, glaring at Harry.

"Now, why would you do that?"

"Because I need help and your team works well with mine."

"That's because none of the other Senior Aurors like you," Abbi said bluntly.

"That's not true. Morgan likes me."

"Morgan only likes you because you were her Senior Auror."

"Is that the only reason you like me?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"Who said that I like you?" Abbi countered. "I tend to dislike people that give me more work to do."

Unfortunately, Harry couldn't argue with that point.

"I suppose that's true," Harry replied. "Listen, I'm not kidding. My team is stumped."

"Should have picked better Juniors."

"Abbi, I'm serious," Harry said firmly. "You and I both know that my team is good. If anyone else had been given this assignment, they would have even less information. But even with as talented as my team is, I need your help."

"Fine, I'll help," Abbi said after she considered it for a moment.

"Good, although you weren't really given a choice."

"I know, but it makes me feel better when I'm given the chance to say no."

"You weren't given a chance," Harry replied. "Gather your team and meet me in Room Three."

Harry left Abbi's office and returned to his own office, where he quickly gathered the materials that he would need for the meeting. By the time he arrived in Room Three, Abbi and her team of three Junior Aurors: Wes Parkinson, Bentley Shaw, and Harry's former classmate Justin Finch-Fletchley. Abbi knew her own proclivity for aggressive behavior and as such, she chose her Aurors wisely. Rather than picking three morons who only wanted to duel Dark wizards, she chose arguably the three most cerebral Aurors in the Office outside of Elaina Andrews.

Considering the fact that they might not raise their wands once over the course of this case, her team would fit in perfectly with the word that Harry was trying to do. Once everyone was in the room and seated, Harry briefly updated Abbi's team on the specifics of the case and the basic information that they had gathered over the last several days. None of Abbi's team spoke while Harry briefed them. Instead, they scribbled furiously on scraps of parchment that would eventually end up pinned on a wall in Abbi's office. It was a system that the three Aurors had been using for the better part of a year and, as far as Harry could tell, it worked wonderfully for them.

"Alright, so that's the basics of the case," Harry said finally. "Now, my team is going to update everyone on what they've been working on. Once we're done with that, we'll formulate our plan for how we intend to move forward. Does that work for you, Abbi?"

"We're following your lead unless you give us a really good reason not to do so, Harry," Abbi replied with a shrug.

"Good. Emmett, why don't we start with you?"

"Right, yeah," Emmett said with a slight stuttering as he collected his materials and stumbled to the front of the room.

Emmett spent the next five minutes regaling them all with the exceedingly mundane stories of Helen Green's time at Hogwarts. The next twenty minutes included an incredibly detailed description of the crime scene by Elaina before Manuel made his way up to the podium and effectively shrugged at the lack of information found in all of the interviews they had conducted.

All in all, after thirty minutes of briefing, they had nothing.

"You mean to tell me that after we had twenty Aurors working on this for three days, we have nothing?" Harry asked.

"I thought your team was supposed to be good," Abbi grumbled.

"Watch your tongue," Harry growled before turning back to Manuel. "How do we have nothing?"

"Because our victim is boring and our crime scene is devoid of anything that could lead us to our perpetrator."

Harry couldn't remember being more frustrated. He had been on difficult cases before but there were also clues to be found, even on the few cases that he hadn't solved. To be stuck in this position was something that Harry couldn't abide, especially when he considered the fact that Robards would certainly hold this over his head if Harry was unable to solve the case.

Harry sat and waited as the room began to murmur around him. He knew what this looked like. He knew that, to the others in the room, especially those that did not often work with him, Harry appeared to be frozen in time, staring off into space while the world revolved around him, time passing both in slow motion and super speed at the same time.

But unlike other Aurors who simply gave up when they were confused or charged headfirst into the issues that their ignorance had caused, Harry did not care so much about the opinions of others that he was willing to sacrifice his ability to think for immediate action. Over the years, Harry had grown wiser in how he acted. He no longer dove headfirst into action when a more thoughtful action was required.

It was that same wisdom that gave Harry his first lead into the true cause of Helen Greene's mysterious death.

"What if," Harry said, silencing the room immediately, "Helen Greene was chosen because she was not special?"

For a few moments, the room was silent as everyone looked around in confusion. Finally, it was Abbi who broke the silence.

"What do you mean?"

"Helen Greene was boring, right?" Harry asked to the immediate offense of everyone in the room. "You know what I mean. There was nothing remarkable about her. In the end, she was a plain a person as ever existed. For someone who wanted to kill someone and get away with it, isn't she the perfect target?"

"That's a disgusting thought," Justin replied softly.

"Exactly," Harry fired back. "That's exactly my point. For the kind of depraved mind that could have done something like this, Helen Greene would have been the perfect choice. No social life to speak of, no partner of any kind, she even lived in a Muggle neighborhood. There was no one to keep track of her."

"You're saying that they chose her because she was an easy target?" Elaina asked.

"The kind of cruelty we saw at that scene would suggest that the murderer was some kind of predator, right?" Harry asked the room. When no one answered, Harry continued his line of thinking. "For that kind of person, they find people no one will miss or at the very least, someone who won't be noticed for long enough that the murderer can easily disappear. They would stalk their target, which would be easy because their life has been so desperately boring that they would suspect nothing. They wouldn't know that they were even being followed until it was too late."

"We never asked the Muggles anything after the day of," Manuel realized. "And we definitely never asked them about anything they might have seen. We assumed that the killer must have known her."

"And it's possible that he did, although she didn't know that he was the killer," Harry reasoned. "But I think you're onto something. We underestimate Muggles. It's likely that the killer didn't even bother to mask their appearance or their presence if there were no other witches and wizards around."

Immediately, Elaina, Emmett and Manuel stood, Elaina, as the most experienced Junior Auror on Harry's team, barking orders to the others in the room. Harry couldn't help but smile despite himself as he watched his team operate. When Manuel had joined the team nine months ago, it had thrown off the rhythm that the team had enjoyed with Michael Thomas, their previous third member who had left to join the Auror Administrative Services Office. But after nine months of working together every day, the three of them could work almost entirely without Harry.

Elaina's orders were simple: all of the Junior Aurors split up to canvass the area around Helen Greene's apartment and interview people living in the area, leaving only Harry and Abbi to witness their actions. For a moment, Abbi sat and waited for a moment as if she absorbed what had just happened.

"You do have a good team," Abbi said with a smirk.

"They've been trained well," Harry commented. "You would know."

"That I would," Abbi replied as she began gathering her things. "You'll update me if you hear anything from them."

"Absolutely."

Unfortunately, there would be no updates to share the rest of the day. When Harry could no longer stand being confined to his office that night, he packed up his things and made his way home.

The moment Harry landed just outside his front door, he knew that something was off. The air felt...cold, despite the fact that it was mid-May. Immediately, Harry drew his wand and aimed it into the woods surrounding his house, attempting to shine a light on what may be out there.

Harry's first suspicion was that a dementor had somehow found him. He knew it was unlikely for two reasons. First, Harry's house was about as hidden and well protected as any place on the planet. Even the dementor wouldn't be able to sense him underneath the multiple layers of wards that protected his home.

Second, and more importantly, the number of dementors left in the world had dwindled to the point where they could be counted on one hand and had largely been confined to an island far to the north of the British Isles. The island itself was so secret that not even Arthur knew its real location. All he knew was that the remaining dementors had been somehow captured and relocated to this island to remain until the entire population of dementors slowly starved.

All that meant that it was incredibly unlikely that there was a dementor out in the woods. Unfortunately, that did not make Harry feel any better because there was something out there. If it had been a dementor, he would have known how to deal with it. Harry didn't know of any other creatures that could drain all the warmth out of the air like a dementor which meant that he was dealing with something foreign. Still, Harry knew one thing he could do that would help make him feel a bit better.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_ Harry barked as the nearly solid shape of his Patronus burst forward from the end of his wand. Prongs galloped around the small clearing in the woods where Harry sat, immediately reacting to his non-verbal command to check the area for any dangers. All of the skills that Harry had developed in the last decade, none remained such a clear demonstration of his power than his Patronus Charm. While most adult wizards still had to physically give orders to their Patronus, Harry and Prongs acted like a single entity, acting as one without any need to verbally articulate the specifics of what was needed.

Harry couldn't help but smile whenever he saw Prongs, a lingering reminder of his father, much like Harry's eyes were for his mother.

Prongs did a single sweep of the area before returning to Harry and shaking his head gently. If Prongs hadn't found anything, that was usually definitive proof that nothing was there. Still, even with Prongs directly in front of him, Harry could feel that creeping cold lingering just beneath the warmth that Prongs provided. Feeling a bit unsettled at that thought, Harry waved his wand, casting a series of detection charms, one for people, another for magic, and another specifically for wards and runic magic.

In the end, he found nothing. Harry stood in the dark, attempting to peer into the blackness of the forest, trying to see if there was something there with his eyes. But at this time of night, and with no moon in the sky to guide him, there was nothing to see. And according to all of the spells that he had just cast, he shouldn't have expected to see something anyway.

It wasn't until Prongs finally faded away of his own volition that Harry finally went inside, still left with the feeling that something had been in the woods, something had been watching him. When he awoke the next morning, he spent almost two hours in the woods, hunting for tracks or signs that there had been someone there to no avail. In the end, Harry chalked it up to the lingering paranoia he felt because of their mysterious murder with no definitive leads to be found.

When Harry arrived at work that morning, he asked for an update from his team, who had nothing for him. In fact, they had nothing for him all week. Nearly twenty Aurors spent all week attempting to contact the Muggles that lived in the area without tipping them off to the fact that they were actually witches and wizards. While interviewing Muggles was tricky, it was an important part of a good Auror's job, a task that every Auror needed to be able to do with subtly. It made Harry chuckle every time he considered Mad-Eye Moody trying to interview some terrified Muggle who couldn't help but notice that the gnarly man in front of them had an eye that just wouldn't seem to stay still.

Finally, Friday came and Harry was ready for a few days off. He rarely took them but with the amount of hours his entire team had been putting in over the last ten days, he had ordered them to take some time away and come back with a clearer mind and some new ideas. In fact, Harry himself had been prepared to leave early. He had been in the process of packing up his belongings when there was a knock on the door.

"I'm on my way out,"

"Well, I'm hoping you'll make a minute or two for me."

Immediately, panic flooded Harry's mind as he turned around to face Kingsley Shacklebolt, the long-standing Minister of Magic. Time had been relatively kind of the former Auror. Now in his early fifties, he had allowed a beard to cover his face, the hair speckled with grey and brown. While he still lacked hair on the top of his head, this was no longer by choice as the few wisps that had covered his hair in the past had long since disappeared, likely due to the stress of his job. Still, even without any hair, Kingsley was still both good-looking and quite formidable. At least three times prior to his marriage just eighteen months earlier, Kingsley had been named Wizarding Britain's most eligible bachelor by _Witch Weekly._

To the great disappointment of most single women in their late forties and early fifties, Kingsley had married a former Auror, Madeline Belle. The wedding had been an incredibly small affair, limited to close friends, family and the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix. There had been almost as much security as there were attendees, a bit overly dramatic considering Kingsley's guest list could have doubled for the list of the most deadly people in the country.

"Sir, it's good to see you," Harry said, admittedly still a bit in awe of the towering man even years later. "Please have a seat."

"Thank you, Harry," Kingsley said as he took a seat across from Harry's desk. Harry, rather than taking his usual place behind his desk, chose to sit on the couch across from Kingsley's chair. "How are you doing, Harry?"

"Well, things have been a bit…"

"Intense?" Kingsley asked with a knowing smirk.

"That's one word for it, yes, sir."

"Harry, it's just you and me."

"Yes, sir, I mean, Kingsley," Harry said nervously. Kingsley preferred a more informal approach to leadership, especially in more private situations like this one. For some reason, Kingsley was the only person who still made Harry feel like he was in his fifth year. There was just something about Kingsley's presence that demanded respect and exuded power without any effort whatsoever.

"Good. Now, I need you to be honest with me. How is the investigation going?"

"Kingsley, I've worked dozens of cases over the years and you've never asked me that question, even privately."

"You've never worked a case like this. On that, we can agree?" Kingsley replied, sounding a bit too much like Dumbledore for Harry's liking.

"It's unique, I'll give you that," Harry replied, "but that still doesn't explain why you came to me."

"Murders are a difficult proposition among magical folk. We all, with the little piece of wood in our pockets, possess the ability to kill indiscriminately and without the ability to track it. The Killing Curse leaves behind nothing, other than the fact that the person was clearly killed with the Killing Curse."

"It does make our job more difficult."

"Yes, it does. But the Killing Curse, as far as we know, causes no pain and does no damage to the body or the soul of the target. In a way, it's a nicer way to go than some. While it's still a terrifying proposition, it's easier to accept than the idea of someone coming into your house, taking control of your mind, torturing you, and leaving you to die while strapped to your mantle."

"That's why we didn't want that information to get out," Harry countered. "We tried to keep things as quiet as possible."

"And I appreciate your discretion, Harry, but that time has come and gone. Someone talked and the particulars of the case are now flooding the news. The Prophet has run three articles on the case since Tuesday, each one more sensational than the last."

"I bet you regret turning the Prophet over now, don't you?" Harry said, causing Kingsley to laugh for just a moment. _The Daily Prophet_ had, for years, been its own independent organization in name only, effectively run by the Minister of Magic. One of Kingsley's first acts as Minister of Magic had been to publicly declare that he would never interfere with the newspaper. The next day, he signed legislation that prevented the Ministry from interfering with any form of press or public media.

"Not for one minute I don't, although I imagine it would make your job easier at the moment," Kingsley replied.

"Yours as well."

"Nothing makes my job easier," Kingsley countered. "They just can just make it not quite as difficult."

"Fair enough," Harry replied. "The investigation is not going well. We've dug into almost every source of information we have at our disposal and we've found almost nothing. I still have Junior Aurors running around Oxford, hoping to come up with something but I'm not confident that they'll find anything at this point."

"What do you think we're dealing with here? I've heard from Robards that you believe this to be the act of some kind of predator."

"I think that we're looking at someone who gets some sort of joy from inflicting pain on others. Beyond that, I don't have enough information to speculate on what that means or whether this person will do it again."

"And you don't think that Helen Greene was involved in something that could have led to this?"

"No," Harry answered firmly. "I've personally checked her apartment multiple times. I even went back to her parents' home again. If she was hiding something, I would have found it. I don't think this has anything to do with her, other than she was an easy target."

"That's not particularly good news."

"You think I don't know that?" Harry fired back. "I'm burning through resources, I've got Robards breathing down my neck, pressing me for results so that he can go primp and preen in front of the press, and I've got literally nothing to show for it!"

Kingsley leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head, clearly considering just what all of this meant. Back in his day, Kingsley had been among the best Aurors the Office had ever seen, having been personally trained by Alastor Moody himself. It meant that Kingsley had all of Moody's skills without his flaws, a nearly perfect Auror. When Harry had seen Kingsley at his door, there had been a small part of him that had hoped that Kingsley had somehow solved the case from his own office. Harry knew that the chances of that were basically non-existent but that didn't mean that Harry couldn't hope. This case had the chance to derail his career for years to come, especially if he ended the investigation without discovering a single lead.

"What are you thinking?" Harry finally asked after several moments of shared silence.

"The attacker got in and out of her home without cancelling any of the wards and without Apparating."

"Without evidence of Apparating."

"The Ministry tracks Apparitions, Harry. If the Ministry says that no one Apparated into Helen Greene's home, then no one Apparated into Helen Greene's home," Kingsley said firmly before a strange look came across his face. "Unless.."

"Unless what?" Harry asked.

The strange look on Kingsley's face changed again, worry clearly streaking across his face.

"Unless the murderer worked for the Ministry."

It was a thought that would have immediately come to Harry's mind ten years earlier. Even after the Battle of Hogwarts, corruption still ran rampant throughout the Ministry. It took nearly three years for Kingsley, along with people like Hermione, to rewrite the Wizard's Code in such a way that most of the people who benefited from the Ministry's corruption were either caught or abruptly resigned their positions.

Now, Harry hadn't even considered the fact that someone at the Ministry could have manipulated things to allow them to commit such a disturbing crime. But the more Harry considered it, the more it made sense. There was almost no information available on this case, as if someone had removed most of it. Rather than considering the idea that someone was so skilled that they had been able to avoid all the Ministry's tracking measures as well as the general ones available to the Aurors, it made far more sense that someone within the Ministry had altered the available information to ensure that they couldn't be caught.

"Who has access to the Apparition Tracking system?"

"Not many people," Kingsley replied. "It's housed with the DMLE in the Administrative Registration Department but no one in that office can access the results of the Apparition Tracking System without an express order from Arthur or a member of the Council of Witches and Wizards. Even then, it requires a specific order and only the results can be produced. As far as I'm aware, there's no way to remove any of the records."

"But would it be possible for someone to only produce certain results instead of the entirety? Like if someone asked for the names of everyone who Apparated into Helen Green's home, could they only produce some of the names and leave off some of the others?"

"I honestly don't know," Kingsley admitted.

"Well, that will be the first thing I do in the morning."

"Actually, let me look into it."

"Why?" Harry asked curiously.

"I agree with you that the most likely scenario is that someone managed to manipulate the results of the Tracking System. That's a worse case scenario here. I don't want it to come out that you are investigating anyone within the Ministry unless we're absolutely certain that is the case."

Harry understood Kingsley's logic. Still, he was concerned about being told to shelve a potential avenue of investigation, especially in a case where there had been so few points of information to being with. Apparently, his concern reached his face because Kingsley immediately continued on.

"Keep working your end, Harry, and if I find out that it is even remotely possible to alter the results from the Tracking System, I will let you know and I will let you off the leash. At that point, it won't matter if the news of you investigating someone in the Ministry gets out. We need you to solve this case as quickly as you can but we can afford to wait a couple of days to make absolutely certain before we press on."

"I understand," Harry replied. While he hated being shut down, he did understand Kingsley's point. If it turned out that there was no way to alter the System and Harry had been investigating people anyway, it would have been a huge misstep for Harry and the Auror Office in general.

"Good," Kingsley said as he stood. "I'll let you leave now. I know that this case has been frustrating but keep pressing forward and I'm certain you'll come up with something."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said as Kingsley made his way to the door. "How is Tiberius doing?"

About twelve hours earlier, the news had come out that Kingsley's Senior Undersecretary, Tiberius Ogden, had been admitted to St. Mungo's for some unknown ailment. According to rumors coming out of the hospital, the prognosis didn't look good. Still, Harry had learned not to trust rumors.

"He's still hanging in there," Kingsley replied, "but things aren't looking great. He's already offered his resignation twice in the last day."

"You didn't accept it?"

"Tiberius Ogden has been a public servant for nearly seventy years and he was one of your most public supporters during the war. His body is failing him, not his mind. He'll have his job for as long as he lives."

"I don't mean to be insensitive but how long with that be?" Harry asked.

"No one is certain," Kingsley admitted. "As far as your insensitivity, you are certainly better at expressing your curiosity than your supervisor."

"Robards trying to capitalize on the death of a great man? I'm surprised," Harry growled dryly.

"He's a good Auror, Harry. I know you know that and I know that's why you put up with him."

"I put up with him because I don't have a choice," Harry replied quickly. "Given a choice, I would much rather not."

"Who knows what will happen if Tiberius passes? I'm certain it will lead to a number of new positions for quite a few people," Kingsley replied. "For now, try and keep Gawain happy. Every time you piss him off, he ends up in my office."

"Does he pay you rent?" Harry snapped back.

"Not yet," Kingsley said with a smile. "Have a good weekend, Harry."

"Same to you, Kingsley. Will we see you at Sunday dinner?"

Kingsley sighed. "I highly doubt it. Pass along my regards to the family."

"I will."

With that, Kingsley was gone, leaving Harry to consider the possibility that someone from the Ministry had attacked Helen Greene along with a potential future where Gawain Robards was no longer his superior. Harry sincerely doubted that he had ever had two such contrasting thoughts at the same time in his entire life.


	5. Promotion

The dominoes at the Ministry of Magic began to fall only a few days later when Tiberius Ogden passed away at nearly one hundred and twenty years old. Harry couldn't say that he was particularly torn up about Ogden's passing, at least not in a personal sense. As a Senior Auror, Harry wielded almost no real power at the Ministry of Magic and therefore, he only interacted with someone on Ogden's level at the few events that were thrown each year to celebrate the end of the Second Wizarding War. He had never met Ogden at any sort of personal event and honestly couldn't recount more than a handful of conversations with the man.

But there was no doubt that the loss of Tiberius Ogden would be felt around the Ministry. The man had been a Ministry official in one way, shape, or form since the end of World War II and had been a member of the Wizengamot since before Riddle first used the name Voldemort. He had been instrumental in the restructuring of the Ministry after the war and had been one of Harry's most vocal allies during it.

As a result, Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, had been invited to the private burial service to be held in Yorkshire. The day before, a massive memorial service had been held in Courtroom Ten at the Ministry of Magic, honoring his life as a public servant. To be honest, Harry would have much rather attended that service than this one where he immediately felt out of place among those that knew him personally in addition to his role at the Ministry. Thankfully, Ron and Hermione had both agreed to come as well, giving him a solid support system to deal with the number of people who kept approaching him. Even at a private funeral, there was someone who always wanted Harry's support with something.

The funeral itself was relatively short, highlighted by a brief yet touching eulogy delivered by the Minister of Magic himself. Kingsley and Ogden had not been friends prior to Kingsley's appointment to the Minister's post. However, it was immediately clear that Kingsley respected Ogden immensely and that their years serving together had changed what had originally been a working relationship to one of genuine friendship.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood at the back of the crowd that had gathered around the gravesite, only barely able to see Kingsley through the mass of people between them. Still, this was Harry's preferred place. The only reason he had been invited was because of his status in the wizarding world, not because of any sort of relationship with the deceased. While he would honor Tiberius Ogden by attending, he had no intention of drawing any more attention to himself than necessary.

Thankfully, the service ended without much fanfare. Ogden's immediate family remained behind as everyone else slowly scattered in any direction, attempting to get far enough away from the mourners so they could Apparate away without interrupting their final goodbyes.

"I hate doing these," Ron whispered just as they got out of earshot of the Ogden family.

"It's important," Hermione countered. "Tiberius stuck his nose out for us at a time when it was not a popular sentiment. It's only right that we repay that debt."

"I don't disagree but it's just weird, coming to a funeral as some sort of status symbol," Ron replied. "Just feels like a weird place to be worried about that kind of thing."

"It's done," Harry said firmly. "I don't like it much either but it's something that we're just going to have to accept."

Ron turned to Hermione, a wry grin on his face.

"Do you remember when he used to fight coming to these things? We almost had to drag him out of the house."

"I remember when Kingsley got married and we had to trick him into thinking that we were going to a nice restaurant in Hogsmeade so that he would get dressed up and come to the wedding."

"You didn't want to come to my wedding?"

All three of them turned around to see Kingsley standing behind them, his wife Madeline on his arm. She was a tall, sharp woman with shocking white hair that was trimmed close over her ears. For as warm as Kingsley was, Madeline was not a particularly cuddly person. The few conversations that Harry had with her had left him with the distinct impression that she thought he was an idiot.

Of course, Kingsley had just overheard Hermione recounting the fact that Harry had been tricked into attending their wedding, so he might have been an idiot after all.

"Sir, you know that I wanted nothing more than to come to your wedding, but…"

"I'll stop you right there, Harry," Kingsley said with a smile. "That was already a bold enough lie. I can't help but imagine that whatever you might say next may very well be the end of your political career."

"Yes, sir."

"Ron, Hermione: would you mind if I spoke with Harry alone for a moment?" Kingsley said, still smiling. Immediately, both Ron and Hermione turned to Harry.

"Go on ahead," Harry replied. "I'll meet you at the Cauldron."

Immediately, both Ron and Hermione turned on the spot, disappearing with the characteristic CRACK of Disapparition. When Harry turned back around, he saw that Madeline had done the same, leaving Harry alone with the Minister of Magic for the second time in less than a week.

"What can I do for you, sir?"

"I have a couple of ideas I want to run by you, if you don't mind," Kingsley said. "I've decided to promote Amos from Junior to Senior Undersecretary to replace Tiberius."

Amos Diggory had been named Junior Undersecretary at the same time that Tiberius had accepted the position as Senior Undersecretary. The three men had run the Ministry for the last decade. This would be the first real transition of any kind since the end of the war and it was likely to be only the first in a massive series of shifts.

Amos was a far less aggressive leader than Ogden, preferring to meet individually with people to work out solutions rather than through the machinations of the Wizengamot. Some thought him weak but Harry simply believed that he understood his strengths and weaknesses. Amos was an incredibly intelligent man but not a particularly forceful one. He was never going to win over the crowd and certainly not one as occasionally hostile as the Wizengamot.

Instead, he won people over one at a time, eventually creating a new majority bit by bit. It was an arduous process but one that seemed to work whenever Amos really needed to get something done. Harry could see him being a great Senior Undersecretary, even if the style of the office was about to change substantially.

"That's great, sir."

"You're wondering what this has to do with you."

"You read my mind."

"This means that I'll have to replace Amos as well."

"I'm honored, sir, but the answer is no," Harry said dryly.

"I'll keep that in mind," Kingsley fired back. "Although you may be surprised to learn that you were on the list of people that I considered."

Harry was surprised to hear this. Over the last decade, Harry had done everything he could to stay out of the public arena. He didn't speak in front of the Wizengamot and he did not stump for candidates or policy. He was an Auror, a detective and an investigator, not a politician. The Junior Undersecretary was just that: the Minister's liaison to the Wizengamot and its main policy engineer, all the things that Harry hated about working at the Ministry in a single position.

"Why?" Harry blurted out.

"To be honest, because you are Harry Potter. I know politics may not interest you but between your ability to read people and your already substantial influence, you would be a wonderful Junior Undersecretary."

"While I appreciate the vote of confidence, sir, I have to say that I quite like where I'm at now. Who are you considering?"

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about," Kingsley replied. "I intend to nominate Arthur for the position."

"Really?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Do you think that he would be a poor choice?" Kingsley asked. Immediately, Harry realized that he misread Harry's surprise for disapproval.

"No, I think he would be great! Have you talked to him about it?"

"He has agreed to take the post if the Wizengamot approves," Kingsley answered. "Amos believes that the measure will pass unanimously. No one wants to be seen going against the Weasleys."

"True. I think Arthur would be great. To be honest, I'm kind of surprised that he accepted. You effectively had to force him to take the DMLE job."

"Yes, well I think he's had more time to accept the fact that he's quite good at leadership now," Kingsley remarked. "Listen, I tell you all of this because I will be looking for a new DMLE head."

The look that Kingsley gave Harry told Harry that while he was not asking him to be the new Junior Undersecretary, he definitely was asking him if he would consider the DMLE job. Unlike the Junior Undersecretary job, Harry did consider this for a moment. He knew that he would be good at the job, even if there was a small amount of political maneuvering he would need to do in that particular position.

But then the image of Helen Greene's corpse flashed before his eyes and in that moment, Harry knew.

"Sir, I do appreciate the opportunity, and maybe at a different time but-"

"But you have an open case."

"Not just any open case, sir," Harry reasoned. "For almost any case, I would have passed it along. But this one is-"

"Different, I know," Kingsley replied. "To be honest, I expected this reaction from you. But Amos and Arthur both agreed that you needed to be the first person offered the job."

Harry was truly honored at that thought. All three men were honest and gifted men who wanted nothing more than to make things a little better each day. For all of them to so uniformly suggest Harry for such an important position spoke to their opinion of his abilities and, more importantly, his character. It meant a great deal to him and he was genuinely disappointed to have to turn the offer down.

Still, for the time being, he knew what he was and until he figured out just what happened to Helen Greene, nothing else would matter.

"Thank you, sir," Harry finally said.

"If you won't take the job, who would you recommend?"

"Sir?"

"I offered you the job, Harry. If you won't take it, you at least deserve a say in who it is...or isn't. Remember, the head of the Department chooses the Head Auror."

Harry knew that Kingsley had chosen his words intentionally. Immediately, Harry's mind went to the one future that he desperately wanted to avoid.

"Not Robards."

"You don't care who is in the position other than that?"

"I very much care," Harry responded, "but given the choice between almost anyone else you could reasonably consider and Gawain Robards, I'll take the field."

Kingsley paused for a moment, considering just what Harry was saying.

"You honestly believe that he would be a bad choice beyond just your personal dislike for him?"

"You and I both know that Robards has eyes on every job that's currently above his, including your own," Harry reasoned. "The Head Auror should not be a political position and yet, somehow, Robards has managed to make it one. It would only be worse with the DMLE job."

"Would you leave the Aurors if I appointed him anyway?"

Harry thought for a moment but almost immediately, he knew what his answer would be.

"No," Harry sighed with resignation. "No, I have a job and a duty and I'm not going to leave that behind simply because of Robards. But I will warn you: if you think that you hear about the cold war between him and I now, just wait until he appoints some crackpot Head Auror."

"I understand your reservations, Harry, and I think we both know that I also understand your inability to...take things lying down."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied. "If you don't mind, I have work to do."

"Of course not," Kingsley replied graciously before turning in place, disappearing before Harry's eyes. Harry immediately did the same, landing in front of the shabby exterior of the Leaky Cauldron. Harry marched in the door and then immediately up the stairs where Tom had gifted them their own private room just a few weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts. The Golden Trio (as they were called in the papers) wasted a couple of hours catching up before Ron (of all people) finally decided that he needed to head back to work.

With that, Harry and Hermione Apparated back to the Ministry together. They walked through the Ministry in silence, knowing that everyone was watching their every move. While there may have been people with more power than the two of them, no one else was as highly scrutinized as either of them, especially when they were together.

Harry and Hermione walked side-by-side until they got to the point where they would need to separate, Hermione taking the lift down to her office while Harry would take the stairs down a floor. As they moved to separate, Hermione turned to Harry.

"Harry, I'm going to need that report on my desk by this evening."

Harry had heard this line dozens of times over the years, usually when they were being watched. There was no connection between the Aurors and the legislative office of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. As a result, there was no reason for Hermione to need any kind of report directly from Harry.

However, Hermione did need to eat dinner.

"Certainly. I'll have it to you by eight o'clock."

"You don't need to be in quite a rush. Eight thirty will be fine."

"I understand. Would you like me to bring it to you or will you come and get it?"

Hermione thought for a second. "Bring it to me. Have a nice rest of your day."

With that, Hermione walked away, having successfully negotiated dinner with Harry for that evening. While it was not a particularly clever code, Harry found that it worked for the people that they needed to fool.

It wasn't as if Harry and Hermione were dating. But any mention of the two of them setting a "date" for dinner would have certainly ended up in half a dozen articles by the end of the day, along with several articles wondering what Harry and Hermione's wedding colors would be in the weeks after that.

So, they had come up with this silly code, a non-existent report that needed to be filled. As far as Harry knew, the code worked. No one was any wiser that Harry and Hermione were having dinner together and the tabloids could stick to making up nonsense rather than having some kind of hard facts.

A smile on his face, Harry returned to his office where he sat down to review the latest information his team had provided on the Greene investigation. Unfortunately, the only piece of valuable information that the Muggle interviews had turned up was a strange man that had stood outside her home a few weeks earlier. Two different Muggle couples had seen the man, an old man with white hair. He had spent about two hours standing on the sidewalk across from Helen Greene's home.

However, none of the Muggles could give anymore information and none of the people who lived in the area matched the description, at least not enough to act on the intel. Again, it left Harry in between a rock and a hard place with just enough evidence to suggest that someone had definitively murdered Helen Greene but without enough evidence to track the person down.

In the middle of going over the crime scene for what must have been at least the thousandth time, Harry heard a sound that he always hated: Gawain Robards screaming his name. Usually, it was because he was pissed off about something else and wanted to bring thunder down on Harry's head as a result. Still, it was never a pleasant experience.

Harry returned to his desk where he sat, impatiently waiting for the bluster to come through his door. Within seconds, Harry's door came flying open, the frame surrounding the door handle splintering from the force of Robards' shoulder barging into it. Immediately, Harry stood, his wand in his hand as Robards marched up to him, his doughy face redder than Harry had ever seen it.

"So, you finally did it, huh?" Robards growled, reaching out and shoving Harry back into his chair. Robards had always been more hostile with Harry than any of the rest of the Aurors but he had never put his hands on Harry.

Now, Harry, seeing red, would make sure that he regretted it. Before Robards could even think of drawing his wand, Harry sent it flying across the room before he whipped his wand a second time, banishing Robards back through the door he had already broken, busting through the hinges. Both the door, with Robards on top of it, exploded through the door frame and landed in the hallway outside his office.

Robards made to stand but Harry raced around his desk and stood at Robards' feet, his wand aimed at Robards' chest.

"Harry, stop!"

Harry turned to his left where he saw Kingsley and Hermione, both of them sprinting the length of the hallway towards him. The other Senior Aurors were now sticking their head out of their office, looking for the source of the commotion. When they saw that it was Harry and Robards, they all moved to come out into the hallway, likely hoping that Harry would finally put the beating on Robards that he so richly deserved.

But the moment they saw the Minister of Magic sprinting down the hallway, everyone else disappeared, leaving Harry alone in the hallway with Kingsley, Hermione, and a battered Robards.

"What the hell is going on here?" Kingsley asked.

"I wish I knew," Harry said before turning back to Robards. "This imbecile came into my office, said something about me finally doing something and then threw me into my chair."

"So you Banished him through the door?" Hermione asked.

"It seemed only right," Harry said with a shrug.

"Everyone inside," Kingsley said, pointing towards the space where Harry's office door had previously been, "even you."

Harry had never quite seen the look on Kingsley's face. It was a mix of frustration and murderous desire that looked foreign to a man as put together as Kingsley normally was. Once Robards had picked himself off the floor, Harry waved his wand in a counter-clockwise circle, lifting the door back into its spot before fixing the handle that Robards had apparently broken off in his initial assault on the door.

Harry took the seat behind his desk while Kingsley and Hermione sat across from him. Robards stood in front of the door, clearly ready to run from the room when he was dismissed.

"This is not how I wanted to do this but it appears that my hand has been forced," Kingsley grumbled. "Harry, I have hired Hermione as the new Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

At first, Harry thought that Kingsley was kidding for some strange reason. But when he saw the smile on Hermione's face, Harry knew that Kingsley was speaking the truth. However, that still left a few pieces of the puzzle, namely why Gawain Robards was so upset, to be filled in.

"The only stipulation that Hermione had prior to taking the job was that she be allowed to replace Robards as Head Auror."

"Look at him sitting there like he didn't have a hand in this!" Robards suddenly bellowed as he charged across the room once more. He only got a few steps when Kingsley stood, which was all Robards needed to stop.

"Gawain, I have vouched for you, with Harry himself and a number of others over the years. Do not make me look like a fool. If you do, you'll find that your next position will be working as the Ambassador to the Ministry of Magic in Micronesia!"

Immediately, Robards returned to his spot leaning against the wall, completely cowed by Kingsley's sudden outburst.

"I can assure you, Gawain, that Harry had nothing to do with this. I know that because I asked him to take the same job earlier today and he declined."

"Right," Gawain replied, barely audible to anyone in the room.

Kingsley looked as if he was going to burn a hole in Robards' forehead. Instead, he took his seat and turned back to Harry.

"As I said, Hermione took the position, but only if she could replace Gawain...with you."

If Harry had been given the time to consider this scenario in advance, he might have come to that natural conclusion. Of course, there was no one in the world that Hermione would trust to run the Aurors more than Harry. Of course, that made all the sense in the world. In that scenario, Harry would have been able to accept the position with grace and poise.

However, Harry had not been given the time to consider this scenario in advance. Therefore, instead of accepting the position with grace and poise, Harry instead approached it with the same kind of finesse that Harry had approached most of his life.

"Seriously?" Harry blurted out before immediately realizing how dim he sounded. "I mean, that's...that's excellent."

"It is," Kingsley said with a smirk. "You will both begin in your new positions tomorrow. Harry, I expect you to remain on the Greene case and I expect you to name a new Senior Auror by the end of next week."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, just now realizing the fact that he had been named the new Head Auror.

"Good, good," Kingsley said before he noticed that Harry's eyes had traveled to Gawain. "Don't worry about him. He's working in my office now, assuming I don't fire him first."

Finally, Robards could no longer handle the apparent shame of being replaced by someone like Harry, racing out the door. It took nearly a minute for the sound of his voice to quit reverberating off the walls.

Once Kingsley was certain that Robards was out of earshot, he turned back to Harry and Hermione.

"The two greatest heroes of the wizarding war. It's about time that we pass some of the power to you. Do well and make me proud."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, unable to wipe the smile off his face. Kingsley stood and immediately left the room, leaving Harry and Hermione alone in Harry's office. For a moment, neither of them knew what exactly to do. Then, the realization of what had just happened truly hit them.

Hermione Granger was now the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Harry Potter was now the Head Auror.

Simultaneously, the two of them stood and threw themselves at each other, wrapping each other tightly as Harry lifted Hermione into the air, not bothering to mask the sounds of their mutual delight in knowing that they would be working together again in such an official capacity.

"I can't believe it!" Harry said once he put Hermione down. "You told Kingsley that you wouldn't work with Robards?"

"We all know his reputation," Hermione replied. "He's not particularly kind to anyone but especially not women and especially not women who are younger than him. I just have the added bonus of getting to replace him with my best friend."

"Holy shit, I can't believe it. I'm the Head Auror."

"Yes, you are," Hermione said, kissing Harry softly on the cheek. "You've only waited ten years for this. Don't screw it up."

"Words of wisdom from Hermione Granger."

"Oh, shut up. Listen, I've got to go inform the rest of my office. We'll talk more at dinner?"

"You got it."

With that, Hermione walked through Harry's newly repaired door, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Hermione had only been off by a few years when she had told him that he had waited a decade for this opportunity. In truth, it had been about eight years since Harry had realized that he truly wanted to be the Head Auror.

When he had first become an Auror, it had been to finish hunting down the Death Eaters that had escaped from Hogwarts that night. It had taken them just over two years to finish hunting them all down and another year on top of that to convict them. However, it had been on the day that Harry had arrested Lucius Malfoy that Harry had realized that he might want to be more than just a plain Auror one day.

While Malfoy's constant threats towards Harry's family had done nothing, Harry realized that someone had been the Head Auror during Voldemort's uprising. Most of that time, it had been Rufus Scrimgeour. Scrimgeour, encouraged by Fudge's insanity, had failed to slow down the slow return of the Death Eaters and then wholly failed to respond to their threat once it was obvious that they had returned.

Harry vowed that this new Ministry would not respond to potential threats that way. It was on that day that Harry decided that he wanted to push to become a Senior Auror and then, in time, the Head Auror. However, Harry had known that Robards' relationship with Kingsley likely meant that it would be some time before Harry was given the opportunity.

In the end, all it had taken was Hermione Granger, the most widely respected person in the entire Ministry, outside of Kingsley himself. Most people would have been thankful for the job. But even before she had agreed to the position, it seemed like she already knew what kind of Department she wanted to run.

It was one of a thousand reasons why Harry appreciated Hermione.

By the end of the night, he would get the opportunity to reiterate just how much he appreciated her. As part of their charade, Harry stopped by Hermione's office promptly at eight thirty, dropped off a file full of blank parchment and then walked out the door, heading to the Apparition point in the Atrium.

Harry turned the moment he entered the Apparition point, landing in the foyer of a modest home in the south of London. If Harry had chosen his home because he wanted to be away from the world, Hermione had chosen hers because she wanted to remain in it. Within just a few blocks were more restaurants than Harry could count, at least half a dozen open air markets and more bars than you could shake a stick at.

While Harry often joked with Hermione about her work habits (she likely spent more time at the Ministry than almost anyone), she did a good job of remembering to take time to unwind. It's why she surrounded herself with such a rich local culture, one that she felt comfortable navigating on her own.

Hermione landed next to Harry only a few seconds later. Almost immediately, she marched out of the room, throwing her work things into her home office before running up the stairs to grab a shower as was her daily routine. While Harry waited, he went into the living room and sat in his favorite chair, the only piece of furniture that had made the move from Hermione's first flat.

The living room always strongly reminded Harry of the Gryffindor Common Room, although Harry supposed that was likely intentional. A massive fireplace took up almost the entire far wall, pictures of the trio on the mantle. The largest was a picture of Harry and Hermione on the day that Harry had officially become an Auror, the only picture on the mantle that didn't include Ron.

While Harry had been allowed to skip the Auror Training Program, he still had to go through the same trials that everyone else did in order to become a Rookie Auror. The trails were two of the longest weeks in an Auror's life: two weeks of interviews, duels, strategic sessions and solo survival skill tests in the middle of the harsh mountains of Scotland. In the nearly forty years since the Auror Training Program had been installed, they had never gone a single year without multiple candidates simply quitting, usually within the first week.

Even for someone as blatantly gifted as Harry, the trials were some of the hardest days of his life, and this was coming from someone who spent a year of his life on the run. It was only because of Hermione's support that Harry and Ron managed to survive the trials.

The rest of the living area was modestly decorated with some of the dozens of awards that Hermione had won over the years, all of it with red and gold trim.

Hermione Granger was a Gryffindor through and through.

"You ready?"

Harry turned to where Hermione stood. She was dressed in her usual Muggle dinner attire, a pair of jeans and a nice top that showed just enough cleavage, which was exactly what Hermione was going for.

"Where are we going?" Harry said as he stood.

"I figure we can do that Vietnamese place again?"

"Sounds good to me."

These dinner dates (Harry was glad that no one other than Hermione knew that he called them that) had started just a couple years of the Battle of Hogwarts. While Harry and Hermione enjoyed spending time with Ron and Ginny and the others, they both found that they enjoyed the time that they got to spend with just the other.

So, without telling anyone, they had arranged to go to Muggle London for dinner. While they still had their wands on them, they dressed like any other Muggle, something that none of their other friends could truly pull off and be comfortable, no matter how hard they tried. These dinners let Harry and Hermione simply slip into the world beyond the wizarding world.

Harry was well aware of the irony. For the first few years of his life, he would have given anything to have a place away from the Muggle world. Now, he was using the Muggle world to escape from the fantasy world he lived in.

Harry and Hermione walked to the Vietnamese restaurant, a place that Harry wouldn't bother pronouncing for fear of insulting someone. They were careful not to talk about too much work until they were seated at their table where Harry could casually cast some spells that would prevent anyone from accurately hearing just what they were talking about.

After they ordered their food, Harry raised his glass towards Hermione.

"To Hermione Granger, Head of the DMLE."

Hermione bashfully raised her glass to Harry's before sipping from it gently.

"It's not a big deal, Harry."

Harry laughed before looking around to make sure that no one was paying them any attention. Even though Harry knew that he wasn't particularly special in the Muggle world, years of always being aware of the number of eyes on you conditioned you to act in a certain way.

"You're literally the second Muggleborn head of the DMLE ever, Hermione. Plus, you did something that even I couldn't do."

"What's that?"

"You got rid of Gawain Robards!" Harry chortled, still unable to believe that he didn't have to work for that human balloon any longer.

"I didn't get rid of Gawain so much as I wanted you," Hermione explained. "I heard rumors of what he was like to Amelia Bones and she had been there for years. I knew that he would do everything in his power to undermine me. I have to admit that the job was less about you than it was about Robards."

"I can't blame you."

"But, once Kingsley agreed to remove Gawain, I knew the only Head Auror I wanted was you."

Hermione was his best friend in the whole world. Still, the faith that she showed in him never ceased to astonish him. She had seen him at his very worst and at his moderately good (Harry didn't ever feel like he had ever been at his "best"). And even after all of that, she believed in him more than anyone else.

It was a show of loyalty that Harry knew he would never be able to repay, not that Hermione would ever ask him to do so.

"Well, it's not going to look good but I appreciate it."

"I know," Hermione grumbled. "I've already received a couple of requests from the Prophet, one of them specifically mentioned you."

"How do they know? Kingsley hasn't even officially announced it yet."

"And how long has that mattered?" Hermione replied dryly. "I'm certain that someone leaked the news before the day was even over."

"Fair point."

Their food came at that moment and that conversation was put on pause as the pair of them each slowly made their way through a bowl of Pho, a dish that Harry had never experienced prior to one of his trips to Muggle London with Hermione. It had actually been that meal that had awakened a sort of culinary epiphany inside Harry.

In the last year alone, Harry had attempted at least forty new styles of food, a feat that had been made easier when he had spent a week in New York City as a consultant to the MACUSA Aurors. He had hit nearly half that list of new experiences during that week alone.

Once they were done eating, Harry and Hermione walked a short distance to a dance club called Tempo. While Harry was not a particularly avid dancer (read: he did not dance), Hermione found that she enjoyed simply letting her hair down. Harry didn't know whether Hermione was a good dancer or not (he expected she wasn't) but he did enjoy watching her let her guard down, something she couldn't very well do in the magical world.

After nearly an hour of dancing, Hermione came back to the table where Harry was seated, a drink already waiting for her. The music was loud but Harry was able to cast a spell that discreetly muted the volume at the table, allowing them to talk at a normal volume level.

"So I notice you turned down a couple of guys over there."

"How is that any of your business?" Hermione replied.

"It's not. I just know that it's been awhile since you've been on a date."

"Why do you care?"

"I don't. I'm just curious!" Harry replied.

Hermione shot Harry a look before casually taking a drink, clearly hoping that Harry would drop the subject. As far as Harry knew, her last boyfriend had been well over a year ago, a nice enough guy named Troy who worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. While he wasn't a particularly exciting person (he collected Muggle toy cars as his primary source of entertainment), he was a good person.

Still, Harry hadn't been too surprised when, after just over six months, Hermione had finally called the whole thing off. Since then, Hermione had buried herself in her work, coming out of her office for Sunday dinners and her semi-frequent dinner dates with Harry.

Harry returned Hermione's look, letting her know that he wasn't letting the subject go. Eventually, she gave in.

"I'm not really interested in that right now," Hermione admitted. "I have you and that's enough."

"You really know how to make a guy feel special."

"I'm serious! Between my work, which is only going to get worse now, and the time that I spend with you, I don't really have time for a boyfriend."

"I don't want to be the reason that you don't have someone," Harry replied honestly.

"Harry, you aren't. Well, you sort of are but not like that."

"How do you mean?"

Hermione looked at Harry, dumbstruck. "Harry, how many people do you think are okay knowing that you are my best friend? First, they're immediately jealous of any time I spend with you, which is quite a bit. Second, they're worried that you might come murder them in their sleep."

"Have they broken the law?"

"No, this hypothetical person has not broken the law."

"Then there's nothing to worry about," Harry replied cheekily, which earned him a good punch on the shoulder. "Seriously though, I want you to be happy."

"I am happy. I love my job and I love the people in my life. I don't need anything else."

"If you say so."

"I do say so," Hermione replied. "What about you? I heard you had a date with Melissa Burke last week."

Immediately, Harry pretended like he hadn't heard Hermione. Just like Hermione had done moments earlier, he hoped that she would forget that she had even asked the question. And just like Harry had done, Hermione made it abundantly clear that she had not forgotten.

"The date was fine," Harry said with a grimace.

"That good, huh?"

"I can't date people from work," Harry replied. "Melissa spent the whole time talking about the cases that she was working on. Plus, she kept trying to get me to get her reassigned to Dawlish or Abbi."

"She doesn't like Collin?"

"No one likes Collin. He was Robards' right hand man," Harry replied. "Plus, she's too young."

"She's twenty-four!"

"I know!" Harry replied. "But she just...she hasn't lived the same life we have. She was fourteen when the Battle of Hogwarts happened. I'm certain she ran out of the castle as fast as she could."

"Which is exactly what she should have done," Hermione reminded him.

"I know! That is exactly what she should have done. But even at fourteen, that just wasn't me. She just doesn't have the same experience that we had."

"Well, no one is going to have the same experience that _we_ had, Harry."

For a moment, Harry's mind flashed back to the tent, a song playing on the radio, Harry and Hermione gently swaying, her head on his shoulder. She was right. No one else would have the same experience they had.

"You're not wrong," Harry replied. "It also seemed like she was a bit too interested in being with _Harry Potter_ , rather than just having dinner with me."

"Such is the life of the celebrity," Hermione said in a mocking tone.

"Shut up," Harry replied as the tone on his watch went off. "It's time to go."

"So soon?"

"It's midnight and we still have to be at work in the morning," Harry countered, although he didn't really mind the late hours. Harry hardly slept more than five or six hours on any given night anyway.

"Fair enough. You coming over?"

"Is that a request?"

"You bet it is."

Less than half an hour later, Harry and Hermione were back at Hermione's house. Harry was back in the same chair that he had sat while he waited for Hermione to change clothes. Only this time, he had a glass of good whiskey (the Muggle variety) in his hand.

Even after all this time, there was some part of this that made Harry nervous. He knew he wasn't the only one. He knew that Hermione was conflicted about the nature of their relationship, especially regarding its history.

But they were both adults and perfectly capable of making decisions for themselves. So, when Hermione placed her glass on the mantle and then straddled Harry, one leg on either side of his, he didn't protest. And when her lips, gently at first but eventually more and more aggressive, met his, he didn't protest.

In fact, he met her every step of the way. This is what life had been like for Harry and Hermione for several years now. To the public, Harry and Hermione were your usual platonic best friends. But their relationship was somewhat more complicated than that.

A number of years earlier (Harry knew the exact date, but he didn't like thinking about it much), Harry and Hermione had been out on a night like this one. There had been dinner and then some dancing, along with some drinking. Then, Harry and Hermione had returned to Harry's flat for a night cap.

Even then, both of them had known exactly what was going to happen. Neither of them were stupid. But they did it anyway. When Harry woke the next morning, he was surprised to find Hermione Granger in bed with him, naked as the day she was born. For a moment, Harry almost regretted it.

Then Hermione woke up and he didn't regret it any longer.

The rules had been established years ago and they were relatively simple. One: they were not dating. Two: they were allowed to date whoever they wanted. Three: If they were dating, then dinner could still happen but the dancing and the night cap disappeared.

But if neither of them were dating anyone, then their arrangement went on as planned. They would get dinner, go to a club and dance (on a few weekends, Hermione had gotten Harry drunk enough that he had actually danced) and then they returned to Hermione's house where they almost always had sex twice, once in the living room and once in the bedroom.

Sometimes, they would do it again in the shower while they got ready for work, sometimes they wouldn't. It was a very Hermione-like set-up. The rules were clear cut and non-negotiable, especially the final rule: no one else could ever know. While Harry honestly didn't think it would be a big deal, he respected Hermione enough to honor her wish.

Harry thought about none of this as he worked to get Hermione's shirt off. Thinking wasn't really the word for it. He was aware of things. He was aware of Hermione's hands, already beginning to operate his belt buckle. He was aware of her lips, already starting to trail down the side of his mouth towards his neck. He was aware of the feeling of her breasts in his hands and the sound of her moans as he massaged her just the way he knew she liked it.

Eventually, Harry couldn't take it any longer. With one swift motion, Harry lifted Hermione by her waist, twisting in a single motion and dropped her on the couch next to the chair. Within seconds, Harry had torn Hermione's pants off as well as his own. Harry quickly climbed on top of Hermione, showering her body with kisses and his hands worked their magic.

Harry was aware of things. When Harry finally plunged himself inside Hermione, causing her to growl in ecstasy, he was aware of the fact that it had been sixty-two days since their last encounter.

He was also aware of the fact that it had been far too long.


	6. Day One

The sound of Hermione's alarm clock woke Harry the following morning, the sun still buried beyond the horizon. He turned and shut off the alarm, reaching over Hermione in the process. For awhile, both Harry and Hermione had been concerned that if either of them stayed the night, it would be a sign that there was something more to their relationship than simply casual, no string attached sex.

But they weren't a couple. There were no morning pleasantries, no early morning snogging sessions to complicate things. As he had done dozens of times, Harry immediately went from shutting Hermione's alarm clock off to shaking her awake. How she woke up without Harry's help, he honestly wasn't sure.

He knew that they could not afford to be late, especially today. At one, Kingsley was introducing Hermione and Harry to the world as the new Head of the DMLE and Head Auror, respectively. It would not do well to be late anyway but it would be especially bad if they were both late, looking like they had been out a bit too late the night before. Honestly, they had stayed out a bit later than what they would have normally considered safe. But they were celebrating. They had a good reason for their late night, as long as it didn't affect them the next day.

Rather than shower at Hermione's, Harry bid Hermione farewell once he knew that she was actually awake. Instead, he Apparated back to his own home where he quickly grabbed a shower and a mediocre breakfast before Apparating to the Ministry. Racing past the pack of reporters that were already lined up and waiting for him, Harry hastily walked to his office, only to find it empty.

"That's not where the Head Auror works."

A smile on his face, Harry turned around to see Elaina, Manuel and Emmett standing behind him.

"Where did you put Robards' things?" Harry asked. He knew that there was no way that Robards had already cleaned out his office.

"We attached Sticking Charms to everything and then put them in a box with an Undetectable Extension Charm on it. He'll be able to pull everything out exactly as it was," Elaina replied. "But we figured that you would want to get started as soon as possible."

"I appreciate that."

Harry turned and marched down to the end of the hallway. The Auror Office was laid out with a bullpen of desks in the center of the room, each one assigned to a Rookie or Junior Auror. On one end of the room was a hallway where the Senior Aurors each had an office. At the other end of the bullpen was the Head Auror's office, a sprawling room with a door that lead directly to the bullpen itself.

In theory, it was supposed to lead to the Head Auror being more accessible to his subordinates. In practice, Harry knew from experience that it made you feel as if you were being watched. Which was why the first thing that Harry did when he reached the Head Auror's office was Transfigure the wall, turning the entirety of the wall into glass.

"Sir, why the change?" Emmett asked.

"People can see what I'm doing now," Harry replied. "They'll know that I'm working, the same as them."

"But won't they feel like you're watching them?" Manuel asked.

"But I won't be watching them. They'll be able to look at me every minute of the day and know what I'm working on. They'll also know that, if I am looking at them, I probably have a good reason for it."

"Yes, sir."

Harry walked to the door and pulled it open, entering the office that he had wanted for years. All of his things had been moved from his old office, placed by his three Junior Aurors as well as they could. All in all, they did a pretty good job of putting his items where he wanted them. Only his replica of the Sword of Gryffindor could stand a new location but Harry figured he would have time to get to that later.

Harry turned around to see that another person had joined them: his new boss, Hermione Granger. Harry smiled as Hermione pulled the door open. Immediately, all three of the Junior Aurors, who clearly knew about Hermione's promotion as well, stood straight. While they didn't come right out and salute her, they might as well have.

"Relax," Hermione said calmly with a flippant wave of her hand.

"Yes, ma'am," all three Aurors replied in uniform. Elaina turned to Harry and stepped towards him.

"Permission to be dismissed?"

"You have my permission to go do your job," Harry replied. "I'll be calling a meeting later today with the two teams on the Greene case. Until then, keep working your leads."

"Yes, sir."

All three Junior Aurors immediately raced out the door, none of them making eye contact with Hermione or Harry. Something had clearly changed in the last twelve hours, something that Harry wasn't so certain that he liked. While he was always glad that he had the respect of those who worked for him, he did not want to be the kind of superior officer that caused his subordinates to fall into a stupor every time he walked into the room.

This would be something that he knew that he was going to have to address. But now was not that time. Now, Harry had something that he wanted to look into. The only lead that his Aurors had managed to come up with was the old man who had apparently been standing around Helen Green's home. While Harry strongly doubted that an old man had done such a horrible thing, he wasn't about to rule it out.

Worst case scenario, Harry wasted some time following an empty lead. Best case scenario, Harry found the murderer returning to the scene of the crime.

Harry told Hermione what he planned on doing. She reminded him that they both needed to be back at the Ministry by one when Kingsley would officially announce their promotions. After that, they had a meeting with the Small Council to update them on the particulars of the case. Harry knew that he couldn't afford to be late to those meetings and told Hermione as such before racing out the door and returning to Helen Greene's home.

There was a park across the street with a playground for Muggle children to play. Immediately across the street from Helen's front door were three benches, all of them facing the street that Helen lived on. From everything that he had heard, the mystery man had taken to sitting on the benches across the street in the weeks leading up to her murder. A number of people had reported seeing him sit there for as long as two hours. None of the Aurors had asked whether or not they had seen him after the murder but if Harry had to guess, he would be there.

Harry found a spot on the far side of the park where the man wouldn't be able to see him, if he did arrive. For nearly two hours, Harry sat and watched that bench, waiting for the old man to appear. Harry had just about given up hope when Harry finally saw an old man take a seat on one of the benches facing Helen Greene's apartment. The man fit their description perfectly: short, portly with wispy grey hair that he kept under a bowler, which he removed when he sat down. The man never had a book or anything to make it look like he had anything else to do. He simply sat and watched the people walking up and down the street.

For nearly a half hour, Harry watched the man from the far side of the park. Based on that observation, Harry couldn't definitively rule the man out but Harry would have been surprised if this man was capable of doing such a thing. First, he appeared to be a perfectly pleasant man who waved and greeted those that walked by. Second, he could barely stand without putting lots of pressure on the cane in his hand. While there wasn't necessarily a direct correlation between a person's physical ability and their magical ability, it took a great toll on a person to cast a spell like the Imperius Curse, especially one as powerful as the one that Harry believed Helen Greene had been placed under.

Finally, only minutes before Harry needed to leave for his introductory press conference, the old man stood as he checked his watch. Slowly, the old man trudged from his spot on the bench down the street. Once Harry was certain that the old man couldn't see him, Harry moved from his spot, trailing the old man for several blocks. It was slow going, both because the old man moved at such a languid pace, his feet barely coming off the pavement as he walked, and because Harry had to remain quite a ways away from him. If it was possible that this old man was the killer, then he assuredly knew what Harry looked like. Unfortunately, the nature of the area meant that Harry was unable to alter his appearance any due to the sheer density of Muggles in the area. A single wave of the wand would still likely be witnessed by someone.

Eventually, the old man turned down a side street. The moment the old man was out of view, Harry sprinted the length of the block to catch up with him. Harry leaned against an old church that was on the corner of the street where the old man had turned, ready to continue the tail, when suddenly a horribly familiar sensation washed over Harry. Despite the warm temperature of June in Oxford, Harry had the sudden feeling that a bucket of ice water had been dumped on his head. This was much stronger than the sensation he had felt at his house. There was no question about it: a dementor was near. Panic flooded Harry's mind as he looked up and down the street, expecting to see a cloaked form hovering towards him. Despite his concern for being spotted by a Muggle, Harry drew his wand, desperately trying to keep his mind from swimming.

That's when Harry noticed something strange. The immediate cold had always been followed by the hushed sounds of his mother and father shouting, growing louder until it sounded as if they only inches away from him, bellowing their last words into his ears. But this time, no screaming came. Still, that shocking cold sensation never left, leaving him shivering in the middle of the street. Pushing through that horrible feeling, Harry turned the corner, expecting to see the old man only a few paces ahead of him.

Instead, he saw nothing. The side street was completely devoid of anyone with the exception of a shopkeeper at the far end of the street. Resisting the urge to flee, Harry fought his way through this sudden malaise towards the shop. It was a rather standard newsstand with a woman who appeared to be in her mid-forties seated high on a stool.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Harry said, trying desperately to keep his teeth from chattering, "but have you seen an eldery man walking through here? About this tall, had a cane?"

"I can't say that I 'ave," she said, her Irish accent so thick that even Harry could barely make out what she was saying. "You sure he came down this way?"

"I thought so," Harry said in frustration. He walked to the end of the street and looked both ways but couldn't see the old man anywhere. It was like he had vanished into thin air. Harry supposed that if the old man had known that Harry was following him, he could have Apparated but unless you were incredibly skilled, Apparition always made some kind of noise, something that Harry assuredly would have heard.

Of course, that was assuming that the old man hadn't Apparated when Harry had first felt the cold. Harry could admit to himself that, in that moment, it was entirely possible that he had Apparated and Harry simply hadn't heard it.

Harry spent a few minutes searching the area, hoping to figure out where the old man had gone. All the while, that sensation of ice in his veins lingered. Eventually, Harry gave up the search. When he attempted to Apparate back to the Ministry, he found it incredibly difficult due to the fact that he had spent nearly thirty minutes in Dementor-like conditions, the thought of which made Harry nervous. The only time he had ever experienced something like that without the physical presence of dementors had been when he had held Riddle's Horcruxes in his hands. Still, the sensation had never been quite that strong.

As Harry landed in the Atrium of the Ministry, he did his best to put that out of his mind. It took him only a few minutes to get to the conference room where the press conference was going to take place. Events like this used to be held in the Atrium or in the large Courtroom back in the days of Cornelius Fudge and his like. Ever since the end of the war, Kingsley had preferred to have them in more quaint setting to ensure security. As a result, a dozen reporters were given access along with the Small Council, the most high profile members of the Ministry of Magic and Kingsley's immediate counselors. The press conference for Amos and Arthur had been held two days earlier which meant that they sat at the front of the room, flanking Kingsley on either side.

On Arthur's right was Gawain Robards, who had been officially promoted to a new position, Counselor to the Minister of Magic. Of course, almost no one believed that it was truly a promotion, especially once it had come out that Harry Potter was going to be the one replacing Robards and Hermione Granger had been the one to enact the change. In fact, word had gotten around that Robards had likely been fired and then re-hired by the Minister as a personal favor to the former Auror. Harry was just thankful that the position wielded no official power other than acting as Kingsley's proxy and offering the Minister his own perspective on things.

The final member of the Small Council was the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Charles Vanderbilt. Vanderbilt had been a member of the International Confederation of Wizard, serving as the British representative for nearly thirty years. That was until two years earlier when Malfalda Hopkirk had unexpectedly resigned as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot after it was discovered that she had been taking money from members of the Wizengamot in order to push their legislation to the floor. It had been one of the few instances of political corruption since Kingsley's push to eradicate that kind of behavior from the Ministry, which is why Kingsley had gone for someone as well respected as Vanderbilt. He was a rather boring man, based on the two conversations that Harry had with him, but he was not one for political favors and certainly not one to reward anyone because of some sort of handout.

Hermione stood at the front of the room, just off to the side of where Kingsley and the rest of the Small Council sat. Once she spotted Harry, she waved him over urgently.

"Where have you been?" Hermione snapped despite the fact that her voice never raised above a whisper.

"I'll tell you later," Harry whispered back in response, doing his best to compose himself. That's when Hermione turned and got a good look at Harry.

"You're white as a sheet. What happened?"

"I said I would tell you later," Harry growled. "In the meantime, how terrible do I look?"

"I wouldn't want to be on the front page of the Prophet right now if I were you."

"Great."

Thankfully, Kingsley's remarks were short. He talked for a few moments about Arthur's work as the Head of the DMLE and Robards' as the Head Auror before inviting Harry and Hermione to come up next to him. Kingsley then spent the next several minutes reminding everyone of Hermione and Harry's history, although everyone knew that no one needed the reminder. Finally, Hermione made her way to the podium where she thanked Kingsley for his confidence and then promised to help Harry in his investigation to capture Helen Greene's murderer.

As always, Harry declined to make any public comment, instead allowing Hermione's words to speak for him.

Once the press conference was over a brisk twenty-four minutes later, Harry and Hermione followed the rest of the Small Council back to the Executive Wing of the Ministry of Magic. The Exec Wing (as it was called by most of the Ministry) was off limits to everyone without an expression invitation. At the far end of the Atrium, beyond the Floo Portals, was a single door. Most would have ignored it if not for the fact that it was guarded by at least four Hit Wizards on any given occasion. Once you were through the door, it opened up into a rather quaint hallway that ended in a circular room with six doors surrounding it. Behind five of the doors were the offices of Small Council with a large room for informal meetings behind the sixth door.

That large room was where today's meeting would take place. Harry had been here just once before. It had been on the day that he and Ron had finally captured Augustus Rookwood, the last of the Death Eaters. Both Harry and Ron had been given a special honor by Kingsley for their work in tracking down the Death Eaters and the ceremony for those honors had taken place in this very room.

The room was unlike any other in the Ministry. Rather than a long table in the middle, the room instead had a row of large, cozy chairs on either side, facing the middle. Hermione had once remarked that the chairs reminded her of the kind you would see at some fancy cigar club. In fact, Harry could easily see the Ministers of Magic of years gone by sitting in this room, chomping away on a massive cigar while discussing the policy of the day.

Thankfully, Kingsley didn't smoke and had actually forbidden the practice entirely while on Ministry property, something that had gotten a surprising amount of pushback from the everyday Ministry officials. It had been a tradition over the years to go to conference room and smoke a pipe or cigar while talking Quidditch or the latest wizarding gossip. Still, Kingsley had put his foot down and, in time, everyone followed along.

Harry and Hermione took seats next to each other on the right side of the room. Kingsley sat across from the two of them, as did Amos and Arthur. Robards pointedly took a seat at the far end of the room, almost as if he didn't want to be seen by Harry for fear that Harry would throw him through a door again.

The last man to enter the room had been Vanderbilt, who sat just a few chairs down from Harry, a long list of notes in his lap.

"Thank you all for coming," Kingsley said, sitting upright in the chair he selected. If Harry had to guess, this kind of room was not something that Kingsley would have chosen. Unfortunately, there were certain things that the Minister did not have control over and apparently the decor in the Minister's Meeting Room was one of those things.

"Before we get started," Amos Diggory, newly appointed Senior Undersecretary said, interrupting Kingsley, "I do have something that I would like cleared up."

"Amos?"

"Harry, m'boy, I do not mean this as any disrespect towards you. I want to be perfectly clear on that."

Harry found that when someone said they meant no disrespect, the opposite was often true. However, if there was a man that was capable of it, it was Amos Diggory, one of the most well respected men in the entire Ministry.

"OK?" Harry replied, not entirely certain how to respond to Amos' comment.

"The Auror Office under Gawain was one of the most efficient and respected offices in the entire Ministry. I understand that a new DMLE Head was necessary after promoting Arthur but why did we feel it necessary to replace Gawain as well?"

Before Kingsley even had a chance to answer, Hermione jumped in.

"I can answer that," Hermione replied firmly. "It was my decision to remove him, after all."

"Why? Gawain Robards was as efficient an Auror as there was."

What followed was, in Harry's estimation, one of the most polite, yet thorough, public denunciations of an official that Harry had ever seen. Harry had worked with Hermione informally over the years (it was what allowed their code to work) but never in any true official capacity. Seeing this version of Hermione Granger in action was truly something to behold.

"That's not entirely true, Mr. Diggory," Hermione countered. "The Auror Office as a whole? Yes, remarkably efficient. But the Auror Office was efficient in spite of Mr. Robards, not because of him. I made it crystal clear to the Minister that I would not take the position if Mr. Robards were allowed to remain."

"And why is that?" Amos pressed on.

"Because I am well aware of Mr. Robards' reputation for how he treats those that he feels are inferior to him. In the last two years alone, Mr. Robards has had no less than fourteen official complaints filed against him for improper behavior. Because he works in the Auror Office, arguably the toughest Office in the entire Ministry, we justify his behavior, saying that it's something that the Aurors need. But upon closer examination of that information, we find two startling trends. The first is that all of the complaints were filed by people who were at least ten years younger than he was. The second is that twelve of the fourteen complaints were filed by women."

"This is ridiculous," Robards muttered in the corner. However, the fact that he hadn't stood up to fight back against Hermione's statement likely meant that there was truth in Hermione's words, which Harry never doubted.

Instead of replying to Robards, Hermione ignored him and pressed on.

"None of these complaints, upon review, could be considered a crime and a few of them are plainly false allegations. However, the trends still exists, even if we remove those false complaints. As we all know, I am both younger than Mr. Robards and a woman. Whether or not I am the best person for this job is likely a matter of debate. But, as the Minister has chosen me for the position, I will not let myself be undermined by someone who could, at any moment, create a situation that will look bad for myself, the DMLE, the Aurors, and by extension, everyone else in this room. That's not to mention the fact that Mr. Potter has had only one formal complaint in his ten years with the Aurors, a complaint filed by an Auror that we later learned was working as an informant for the remaining Death Eaters. When you compare the two men, there really is no question which should be the one leading the Aurors moving forward."

When Hermione finished speaking, the room was silent, minus the slight chuckle that Harry couldn't keep from escaping his lips. It almost seemed as if no one knew what to say. Harry chanced a brief look towards Robards, who sat in his chair, absolutely fuming, his face reminding him of his Uncle Vernon's.

"Thank you for that...clarification," Amos replied. "I understand now."

"Of course," Hermione replied warmly. "Now that we've gotten that out of the way, I think we're ready for whatever you wanted to discuss, Minister."

If Hermione Granger didn't become Minister of Magic someday, Harry would eat his wand.

"Right," Kingsley replied, barely able to hide the smile that was clearly on his face. "Since both you and Harry are new to your positions, and since we're in the middle of one of the worst murder investigations I've ever seen, the Small Council would like regular updates."

"I still don't think it was a murder," Robards growled in the corner.

"You have registered your protest a number of times, Gawain," Vanderbilt said softly. "Now, I would like to hear from the man actually investigating the crime."

Harry decided, in that moment, that he quite liked Charles Vanderbilt.

"Yes, we wouldn't mind if you gave us an initial update, Harry," Kingsley added.

While Harry wasn't entirely prepared to do so at the time, he wasn't about to turn down the Minister of Magic, especially after Hermione's defense of him. The last thing he would ever do was make Hermione Granger look bad. So, after a quick trip back to his office for some supplies, Harry set about explaining the case to the members of the Small Council.

He started with the nature in which the body was found, indicating that none of the evidence that at scene painted an entirely clear picture whether Helen was murdered or whether she killed herself. Next, Harry detailed the results of the interviews that the Aurors had conducted, especially regarding the appearance of the old man just a few weeks before Helen's death. While Harry did tell them that an Auror had tailed the old man within the last week, he conveniently left out the part where that Auror was him and that he had lost him. Once Harry knew more, he would tell them more but he felt that, for the moment, it was prudent for Harry to leave out that piece of information.

The final fact that Harry relayed was the details of Harry's conversation with Helen Greene's parents, specifically their suspicion around Helen's mystery man. Harry repeated his belief that the man did exist but that it appeared as if Helen may have been placed under the Imperius Curse. That's when Arthur spoke up.

"So, have you officially labeled this a murder or a suicide?"

"I am operating it as a murder investigation for the time being," Harry replied.

"Is it your belief that she was murdered?" Vanderbilt asked.

"It is," Harry replied. "There's too much about the scene that doesn't make sense, the method of death being the largest aspect for me. I understand that there is a lot about humanity that we don't always understand. But I've gone through a number of Muggle sources on this kind of thing and people just don't do this kind of thing to themselves. When they want it to be over, they want it to be done quickly. Helen Greene likely took somewhere between six and twenty hours to die. That's anything but quick."

Harry looked around the room, scanning the faces of those across the room for any further sources of questions or confusion. When Harry looked back at Kingsley, he saw that he had been doing the same.

"Thank you, Harry," Kingsley said proudly. "We'll let you and Hermione get back to work."

Thank you, Minister," Hermione said as she stood and nodded gently towards the others in the room before turning and confidently marching out of the room. Harry, who had barely even considered the fact that he was being dismissed, walked at double speed for a moment to catch up with her.

That's when Harry heard a voice come from behind him.

"Harry!"

Harry turned to see Arthur Weasley walking towards him, clearly trying to catch Harry before he got too far away. Both Harry and Hermione stopped and allowed Arthur to catch up. As he got closer, Harry could see that Arthur was trying to hold back tears.

"First, I just...I know you aren't actually my children but it's hard not to think of you that way," Arthur admitted. "I can't tell you how proud I am of the both of you. I know that you've both been through a lot over the years but even then, I expected you to be...intimidated by that room. You would not be the first people to walk in there and suddenly lose the ability to formulate coherent sentences."

"Thank you, Arthur," Hermione replied, a little misty-eyed in her own right.

"Now, I do want to talk to both of you about the vacant Senior Auror position," Arthur added. "I have some thoughts on the matter. I realize it isn't exactly my purview any longer."

"Who were you thinking?" Harry asked. He would never turn down Arthur's perspective on anything. If Harry had learned nothing else over the years, he had learned that Arthur Weasley often provided wonderful insight into almost any situation.

"Honestly, Elaina Andrews would be my first choice. She's spent most of her time learning under Harry and she's been one of the most efficient Junior Aurors in the entire Office."

"But she's also significantly younger than most of the other Junior Aurors," Hermione countered.

"True, true. I would understand if you picked someone like Melissa Burke or even one of the Finch-Fletchleys," Arthur replied. "However, I would also caution you against promoting people simply because a person has been there longer. After all, if we had done that, neither of you would be in the position you are today, would you?"

"You make a good point, Arthur," Harry replied. "We'll certainly take that into consideration."

"Wonderful. We'll see you both on Sunday, right?"

"We wouldn't dare miss," Hermione replied, which always got a wonderful smile from Arthur. Harry felt he could still see the smile etched on Arthur's face, even as he turned back towards the Meeting Room. Harry watched Arthur go before following Hermione back to her new office, which was now just across the hall from Harry's instead of being separated by several levels.

When this office had belonged to Arthur, it had been filled with a strange collection of Muggle gadgets, almost none of which held any value to anyone except for Arthur. Now, the walls were lined with books and pictures, only about half of which moved, something that stood out to Harry more than their animated counterparts.

Most of those were pictures of her parents. Edward and Hannah Granger still lived in Perth, Australia, courtesy of a forced move by their daughter ten years earlier. Four months after the Battle of Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione had taken a month out of their lives to track down Monica and Wendell Perkins, the covers that Hermione had given them when she had erased their memories.

While their identities had easily returned, they found it difficult to accept the fact that Hermione had gone through such a drastic step to ensure their safety. It had taken both of them almost a year before they had been willing to speak to her again. Once they did, and Hermione explained to them just how much danger they had really been in, they understood the desperation that Hermione had felt and why she had felt that such an extreme course of action had been justified.

However, that hadn't changed their love of Australia. For years, Edward and Hannah had talked about moving there. It was why Hermione had chosen that location in the first place. Two years after they returned to England, they told Hermione that they were moving back to Australia, more specifically to Brisbane. It was far enough away from Perth to ensure that no one would accidentally recognize them as Monica and Wendell Perkins.

As a result, Hermione had barely seen her parents since their move to the other side of the Earth. Between all of their busy schedules, finding time to travel was simply out of the question, something that was only going to get worse with Hermione's promotion. Most Muggleborn hid that fact from the rest of the world. While it wasn't necessarily considered a bad thing anymore, it still wasn't something that people flaunted.

But Hermione was proud of who she was and who she came from. She didn't get to see her family more than once a year, so she put their pictures in her office. Merlin forbid you were one of the people who walked into her office and got caught staring at one of the stationary photos.

Hermione took a seat behind her desk before tossing a stack of files in front of the seat Harry had taken across from her.

"What are these?"

"Susan's case files over the last decade," Hermione replied. "The only person in the entire Office with a larger stack is you."

"You think that she should be my replacement."

"Of course. Why don't you?" Hermione asked.

"Because there's at least two better choices," Harry replied. "I get your hesitation to promote Elaina but I don't understand how you can support Susan without considering Justin or Melissa."

"Because I spent all morning reviewing their case histories and Susan has the most complete resume."

"What does that even mean?" Harry countered.

"She has more case closures than anyone but you."

"She's also been an Auror for three years longer than almost anyone else in the Office."

"Susan has nothing but good reviews from her other Aurors."

"People like her. What does that have to do with being good at your job?" Harry asked. "Not that she's not good. She is a good Auror, Hermione, but she's not the best."

"And you think Elaina Andrews is?" Hermione replied.

"I know she is because I trained her myself. You and I both know that I don't talk about myself very often. But I am proud of my Junior Aurors because they always lead the Office in our reporting stats. Look at the last five years. In that time, Elaina has worked more cases than Susan, gotten more convictions than Susan, and worked a significantly higher number of high profile cases."

"That's because she worked for you," Hermione countered. "Susan has never been one of your Juniors. If you take your Juniors out of those reporting lists, Susan blows everyone else away."

This had not been the first time Harry had heard the theory that his Junior Aurors were only good because he was their Senior Auror. Harry knew what made a good Auror. That's why his team had always been successful. Not only was it lead by someone who knew what they were doing, but the parts of the team were simply better than its contemporaries.

"Hermione, why do you think I never chose Susan? When Abbi was promoted, I could have picked any Junior Auror to replace her. Hell, when Susan was first made a Junior Auror, why do you think I wasn't the one who selected her?"

"You obviously don't think she's a good Auror."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Harry replied. "I know what I'm looking for and Susan is not it. If I'm going to be the Head Auror, then I need Senior Aurors that I can trust. Susan is a great Junior Auror but she's never once shown that she's a great leader of people. That's what I need in a Senior Auror, especially the one that will be taking over my team. Those three have been some of the best Juniors I've ever had and I will not allow them to be led by someone who simply is not as good as they are."

When Harry got finished, he noticed a strange smile on Hermione's face.

"What? What is it?"

"I'm fine with Elaina," Hermione replied. "In fact, I've been fine with Elaina for some time. I just wanted to know how strongly you felt about her. Clearly, she has earned your trust."

Harry shouldn't have been surprised. If there was anyone out there who would dare pull something like that on him, it was Hermione.

"She has," Harry replied, "and she's earned the promotion."

"You can announce it tomorrow," Hermione replied. "First, I want to know why you were almost late for the press conference."

In all of the stress of the press conference and then the meeting with the Small Council, Harry had almost forgotten about his experience in Oxford earlier that day. With a quick flip of his wand, Harry closed and locked the door to Hermione's office before casting four different concealing charms to ensure that they could not be overheard.

Once Harry was certain that they were secure, Harry relayed to Hermione his experience at the park with the old man. Harry told her about his plan to follow the old man and how he had been in the process of doing so when that terrible cold swept over him. When Harry finished his story, ending it just before he met her at the press conference, Hermione sat in silence for a few moments, clearly considering what had happened to Harry.

"You didn't see any Dementors?"

"No. Didn't we relocate all the Dementors?"

"Yes, but I suppose it is possible that another returned to England."

"In the middle of broad daylight? In Oxford? And it just so happened to find me?" Harry growled. "That's insane, Hermione."

"I know but what are the alternatives?" Hermione asked. "I don't know of anything else that generates that kind of sensation."

"Horcruxes do. Not usually that strong but you never felt warm while you were carrying it."

"But that was only while you were carrying it," Hermione reasoned. "Even if the man had a Horcrux, which I highly, highly doubt, you were still a dozen feet away from it. There was no way that should have traveled that far."

"You're right," Harry said, his mind suddenly wandering to the other night in front of his house. He had felt a similar feeling although nowhere near as powerful. Could it have been the same? Could it also have come from the old man? The moment Harry considered that, a number of other questions popped into Harry's mind. Who was the old man? How did he know where Harry lived? How could he generate such a powerful sensation, powerful enough so that Harry could feel it even through his wards? Every question was more disconcerting than the last.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up at Hermione, who had clearly been talking to him.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked.

Of all the people in the world, Hermione had been his closest friend and ally for almost as long as he had known about magic. He knew that she would want to help him figure this out. She was Hermione Granger, after all. But in that moment, Harry knew that he wouldn't tell her about that moment outside his house. Not yet. Not until he knew more about what exactly was going on.

"Nothing, nothing's wrong," Harry lied. "Listen, I'm going to go and prep for tomorrow. First full briefing as Head Auror, you know?"

"Right," Hermione replied. Harry couldn't tell if Hermione believed him or not, but she was clearly going to let it go for the moment.

Of course, they were both going to let it go for the moment as Gawain Robards walked into Hermione's office the moment that Harry stood.

"Can I help you?" Hermione said coolly.

"Ms. Granger," Robards started, which almost caused Harry to double over in laughter when it became clear just how uncomfortable Robards was addressing her properly. "Ms, Granger, I have been informed by the Minister of Magic that as part of my duties as Counselor to the Minister, I will be assisting you and Head Auror Potter on the Helen Greene case."

Despite the fact that Harry was standing between Hermione and Robards, and that Robards had said Harry's name out loud, Robards' eyes never even drifted towards Harry. Instead, they remained fixated on Hermione.

"When you say assist, do you really mean assist?" Harry growled, stepping into Robards' line of sight to ensure that the spherical man had to look directly at him. "Or do you intend to take over the case?"

"I have been asked by the Minister to assist. He has placed me under the directive of Department Head Granger. If the Minister or Ms. Granger give me an order, I am bound by that directive."

"So, if I told you that you had to follow Harry's orders, you would do so?" Hermione asked, a wicked smile on her face. Harry was surprised at Hermione. He had no idea that she could be so cruel and yet so playful at the same time.

"I serve at the pleasure of the Minister of Magic. If that is your wish, then so be it."

Harry had seen dozens of broken men and women over the years. In that moment, Gawain Robards, knowing that he was finally beaten after a decade of resistance, may have just been the most broken man Harry had ever seen.

"I'm not so cruel," Hermione replied to Robards' obvious relief. "You will become the DMLE's public consultant for this case. All reporters that wish to speak to an Auror will go through you. In addition, it will be your task to ensure that the public feels as if we are in complete control of this case."

Considering the fact that Harry had no idea who (or what) killed Helen Greene, that might have been more cruel than putting Robards at Harry's disposal. This case was going to be the worst for all of them and Hermione had just assigned Robards as the public face of it. Still, Robards knew better than to fight.

Plus, Gawain Robards could never say no to a camera or a reporter.


	7. The Chudley Cannons

Harry's life had always been filled with one kind of stress or another. If it wasn't the Dursleys, then it was Voldemort trying to kill him, or Harry trying not to kill Robards. For years, especially while at Hogwarts, Harry had handled that stress with only one viable outlet: Quidditch. For nearly two years after the war, Harry had put his nose to the metaphorical grindstone nearly every day of the week, working himself to near exhaustion.

Finally, one of the least observant people in the world told Harry that he was working himself to death. Now, Ron said that to most people, even after becoming an Auror. But after weeks and weeks of being ignored, Ron finally took control of the situation.

One night in early January 2000, Harry had been sitting in his office, writing reports when Ron had entered his office. He quickly and not so politely told Harry that he was working too hard and that he needed to get a life. Harry had responded by saying that he had a life. He even had a girlfriend at the time.

Of course, his relationship with Ginny was only weeks away from ending, so that probably hadn't been the best defense.

At that point, Ron revealed that he had bought season tickets for the two of them. Every other Thursday from January to October, they would be attending a Quidditch match. But this was no ordinary Quidditch match, at least not for Ron Weasley. These were Chudley Cannon tickets, owners of a league-record eighty-three last place finishes in the twentieth century. Harry had been to dozens of matches over the years and the only Cannons victory that Harry had witnessed occurred when the Cannons' Seeker and the Seeker for the Falmouth Falcons got into a duel during the match, with the Falcons' Seeker accidentally disintegrating the Snitch. After a nearly three hour delay, the Falcons agreed to forfeit the match, granting the Cannons their first outright victory in nearly six years.

Still, Harry always looked forward to them, especially since Ron resigned from the Ministry. With his increased success at the Wheezes branch in Hogsmeade, Ron was almost as busy as Harry these days. Despite all that, they had only missed a handful of matches over the last eight years, most of them due to an injury that Ron sustained at work when a new product exploded, nearly burning the building down in the process.

Their routine was always the same: Harry would Apparate from work to Ron's house on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, Ron would take an inordinately long time to say goodbye to Gabrielle, then they would go to George's bar, The Jester, for dinner before finally attending the game, Harry having upgraded their seats to the Top Box four years earlier. This evening would be no different. Harry showed up at Ron's house and he did take nearly twenty minutes to say goodbye to Gabrielle before they Apparated to Diagon Alley and walked in the front door of The Jester.

The bar was intentionally designed to look like a more mature version of the Gryffindor Common Room, decorated almost entirely in crimson and gold. In the center of the main room was the bar, a large circle with seats on the inside and out. Much like the Great Hall, all you needed to do was sit at the bar and order from the menu that materialized in front of you, not that anyone needed a menu. Fred's Finest wasn't the only drink on the menu but it was by far the best and it was the recommendation of the owner and creator himself that you drink it straight.

Of course, Harry didn't sit out in the common area. After the Battle of Hogwarts, George had invited Harry over to his apartment for a drink. Fred's will had been a short affair with most of his belongings and assets being transferred directly to George, an easy choice considering they had been living together at the time, twins and co-owners of a business. In regards to his business, there had been only one difference. His share of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes was to be split among two groups. Half of Fred's share, twenty-five percent of the company, was to be split among the remaining Weasley siblings.

The other twenty-five percent went to Harry for backing them with his Triwizard Tournament winnings. Harry had tried to decline the stake in the company until George had reminded Harry that this had literally been Fred's dying wish. That had been all it had taken for Harry to sign the contract, officially become a twenty-five percent owner in the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes Corporation.

That same Corporation had fronted the money for The Jester, meaning that Harry technically also owned at twenty percent stake in that, having sold five percent of his stake to Ron when Ron had opened his Hogsmeade location. Being the second largest owner in the bar meant that Harry never waited for a table and he certainly didn't sit out in the same room as the rest of the world, where they could sit and gawk at him.

Instead, Harry and Ron simply walked through the main hall and down a hallway to the back room, the hidden VIP area of the Jester. Here, there were no menus. Each table was assigned its very own bar-mage, a witch or wizard who had literally spent years learning how to make drinks with their magic. This was where the very best of Fred's Finest was found, including the small samples of the original batches of Fred's Finest, which remained in their casks to this day and would only be opened to the public on the twentieth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts.

While that particular drink was not available, there were other rare varieties of Fred's Finest, ones that were only available in this room.

Harry and Ron were here every other week and so the moment they walked into the room, they noticed that their table and bar-mage were already waiting for them. Their bar-mage was an elderly American witch named Clarissa, who claimed that she had begun making drinks for wizards during the American Prohibition Era at the beginning of the twentieth century. Harry wasn't brave enough to ask Clarissa for her age, but he highly doubted that she was quite that old.

Still, she made a hell of a drink.

Once they sat, Ron immediately launched into a twenty-minute monologue on his frustrations at work. For almost anyone else, Ron's behavior would have been considered rude. But Harry knew better. Ron knew that Harry hated talking about his work, especially when he was among family and friends. So, Ron took the opportunity to rant about his own work before the conversation would eventually turn to the Cannons or Ron's home life or something else that kept the conversation away from the Ministry of Magic.

Of course, that was until Ron said: "I think I'm going to ask Gabrielle to marry me."

Frequently, Harry would let Ron talk, only barely paying attention, knowing that Ron wouldn't notice (if he did, he wouldn't be offended). Harry had little actual interest in Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes but he let Ron talk because Harry knew that it drove everyone else nuts that George and Ron still played with toys for a living, no matter how exquisitely crafted those "toys" were.

However, when someone tells you that they're thinking of "popping the question," you suddenly find yourself paying attention.

"Really?" Harry asked, trying to keep the skepticism out of his voice. Unfortunately, Ron noticed Harry's surprise.

"You think I shouldn't?"

"I never said that, mate," Harry shot back. "I'm just surprised."

"We've been together for quite awhile now."

"I know you have. I just didn't think that either of you were in any rush to get married."

"It's not a rush. It's been three years now."

"I suppose it has," Harry admitted, not quite realizing it had been that long already. "Well, then go for it."

Ron immediately looked confused.

"Really?"

"What?" Harry asked.

"You think I should?"

"Did you want me to talk you out of it?" Harry replied. "I can do that if that's what you want."

"That's not what I want!" Ron grumbled. "I just…"

"What?" Harry asked when Ron didn't immediately finish his thought.

"I didn't think you would be supportive."

"Why wouldn't I?" Harry asked. "Does she make you happy?"

"Of course she does."

"Then, by all means, ask her," Harry said.

"I know you weren't her biggest fan...at least in the beginning," Ron replied sheepishly. "You weren't the only one. I know she's young but-"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me or anyone else," Harry said before Ron could keep winding his way down the proverbial rabbit hole. "You already answered my one and only question. You're not wrong that Gabrielle's...lack of life experience did drive everyone a bit mental for awhile. But she's grown up the same as you have, Ron. There's no question that the two of you are great together. So if this is what you want, then go for it."

Ron nodded at Harry's answer, never actually articulating just what Harry's approval meant to him. He didn't have to. Ron was not an overly emotional person but when he was, you could tell and it didn't take a Legilimens to know that Ron truly appreciated Harry's support.

Once Harry and Ron finished their meals, they made their way back to the Alley where they could Apparate directly to the Pitch. Unlike most of the British and Irish Quidditch League, who simply bought fields in the middle of nowhere and then charmed them so that Muggles avoided them, much like they had for the World Cup, the Cannons had taken a somewhat novel approach to their Pitch.

They charmed it to look like a massive military installation in the middle of nowhere, complete with guards dressed in Muggle military attire. It drastically reduced the number of accidental encounters with Muggles and any Muggle who did manage to make it through the wards was immediately greeted by an Auror dressed like a military captain who lead them off the property, no magical modifications of their memory required. It still required most of the Notice-Me-Not charms that graced other Quidditch Pitches but without the mess of the Muggle Repelling Charms, which were notoriously faulty the more often they were tested.

Harry and Ron Apparated to a private Apparition point on the far side of the stadium, away from where almost everyone else would enter the Pitch. This ensured that there wasn't such a fuss when they arrived. Still, a small group of reporters stood just on the other side of a rope, several massive security personnel standing between Harry and the leeches that started shouting at him the moment they arrived. As usual, Harry and Ron ignored them as they made their way towards and then up the stairs that would lead them to the Top Box.

Once they reached the Top Box, they quickly found their seats: front row, dead center, the best vantage point in the entire stadium besides the Seekers themselves. The Cannons' Box was one of the smallest in the League with only eight seats, not a huge surprise since the Cannons easily had the worst attendance in the League at just over three hundred people a match.

In comparison, the League-leading Wimbourne Wasps averaged almost a thousand fans at each match.

However, those eight seats were almost always filled, considering six of them were the same six people every time. Ron and Harry, the most high profile Cannons supporters in the world sat in the center of the front row. In the back row sat Michael Barnes, the primary owner of the Cannons, and his wife, Kira. Next to them was the Head of the Department of Magical Transportation Emily Betts and her husband, Steven. Barnes had owned the team for nearly sixty years and had been coming to games for years before that. The Betts had been attending since well before Harry and Ron had started at Hogwarts. As a result, the bi-weekly matches became a bit like a family reunion for the four that sat in the back row, which was honestly fine with Harry because it meant that they left him and Ron to their own devices.

The other two seats were often filled by select friends and family from their opponent. On their left that evening was Turner Jones, the husband of the opposing team's manager.

"How's it going, boys?"

Harry and Ron both turned at the voice on their right, one they immediately recognized. Neither were surprised when they looked up and saw Dean Thomas, their former classmate who now worked for the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

He was also married to Ginny Weasley, the best player in the entire League, and the bane of every Chudley Cannons fan. The last time Ginny had played Chudley, she scored nearly three hundred points on her own. Needless to say, the Cannons were hoping that a repeat performance wasn't in store for them this evening. Personally, Harry thought that they needed to start praying to better (or, at the very least, more sympathetic) gods if they thought for a moment that Ginny was going to take it easy on them. While Quidditch and Dean were Ginny's two favorite things (in some order), her third favorite thing in the world was torturing her brothers and there was no better way to torture Ron than to obliterate his favorite team.

Needless to say, there wasn't much chance that the Cannons were going to be heading home with a win that night.

"Well, my sister is going to ruin my night," Ron said as Dean took the seat next to him. "But, I got a good steak and a firewhiskey before the game so I'm as prepared as I'm ever going to be."

"He meant to say that he's doing fine," Harry added. "How are you?"

"Work has been nuts. England is getting ready to submit a bid for the 2014 Quidditch World Cup."

"That'll be twenty years after the last time," Ron said suddenly.

"They're going to have the Cup in England on the anniversary of the Death Eaters' attack?" Harry asked.

"It's bound to happen sometime," Dean replied. "Quidditch started here, quite literally, in fact. Queerditch is only a forty minute walk that way. They can't ignore us forever."

"I think I would," Harry replied.

"Well, it's what Flint wanted so that's what we're doing."

"Ugh, that oaf," Ron remarked, screwing up his face so that he looked more like a troll than a person. It was as close as a person could get to looking like Marcus Flint without resorting to Transfiguration.

"He's honestly not a bad bloke. He's just a bit…"

"Stupid."

"Dim."

"Daft."

"Completely devoid of any signs of intelligent life," Harry said, finally forcing Dean to break.

"Fine! Yes! He's a moron. But at least he's not still spouting all that Pureblood bullshit that some of his buddies were spewing after the war," Dean replied.

"Yes, he could be worse," Harry admitted, "that doesn't make him good."

"I suppose not," Dead admitted. "Honestly, I'm surprised to see you here, what with the investigation and all."

"Everyone needs a break," Ron cut in, "even the Head Auror."

"I did see that in the Prophet. Congrats, mate."

"Much appreciated," Harry said. "No, Ron has repeatedly told me that I'm not allowed to live in my office. So, I'm here."

Suddenly, a series of cannons fired from just above their heads, signalling that the match was about to begin. Knowing that they would likely continue the conversation once the Cannons had been thoroughly embarrassed, Harry turned away from Dean and towards the Pitch where the announcer, Daniel Roberts, floated in front of them on a broomstick of his own. A few years earlier, Roberts, a former Cannon player (his personal stamp on the club came in a match against Kenmare when he set two club records in a single matches: the most times knocked off a broom without being hit by a Bludger and most consecutive goals conceded), had the brilliant idea that he would fly above the match and commentate from there.

Even after he had spent a month in St. Mungo's with no memory the week leading up to the match where he had taken not one but three Bludgers to the head, he still floated above the actions, his voice magnified so he could call the game from his broom, although he wore two helmets now to protect what was left of his mind.

" _Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, wizards and witches, and welcome to the Chudley Cannon Pitch at Chudley Cannon Stadium! Is everyone ready for some Quidditch?"_

The crowd, which couldn't have numbered more than one hundred and fifty people, cheered, although it sounded more like a groan than anything else.

" _That's what I thought!"_ Robards replied to the crowd, clearly ignoring their tepid response. " _Tonight, we're going to see our beloved Cannons go up against The Holyhead Harpies. The Starting Seven for the Harpies are Oakley, McShane, Headley, Clarke, Harrington, Williams, and the four-time League Most Outstanding Player, Ginny Weasley!"_

As each of the Harpies were called, they flew out of the tunnel behind the goals to Harry's left, circling the pitch several times before suddenly diving towards the ground at center pitch. As they fell, a wave of magical energy surrounded them, making it look as if they had been transformed into some kind of bird. Moments before they would have hit the ground, they separated, with Ginny completely stopping her momentum and streaking straight up in the air, that same wave of energy now following her alone.

When she finally stopped, the magic engulfed her, momentarily appearing to give her wings before it disappeared, leaving Ginny floating directly in front of them, waving at the crowd as they cheered for her. Ginny was easily the League's most popular player and even opposing crowds found it difficult to root against her, especially a team like the Cannons that knew they were going to lose anyway.

Once the cheers from the crowd finally died down, Roberts took his place once more.

" _And now your Chudley Cannons! Seeker: Chester Butters! Chasers: Adolphus Squabs, Clementine Lillypilly, and Iris Buttons! Keeper: Elmira Selpie! And finally, your League-best Beaters: Huck Horne and Thicket Hammers!"_

League-best was about as misleading a term to use for anything regarding the Chudley Cannons but it was almost treasonous to call Horne and Hammers the best at anything, except for their names. In fact, they "lead the League" in only one category: fouls. They were on pace to set the League record for most fouls recorded by a pair of Beaters in a single season and that included the 1926 Appleby Arrows, who famously recorded over three hundred fouls in a single match after it was discovered that one of the Beaters intentionally led a nest of Acromantula towards the Pitch to distract the opposing team, making it easier for him to capture the Snitch. After a nearly two-day delay in the match so that the referee could consult the rulebook, the match continued after Appleby was assessed ninety-four penalties, a League-record for a single action.

Unlike the Harpies, who had stunned with their pre-match display, the Cannons simply flew out of their tunnel in a straight line, circling the Pitch twice before taking their places. Even this simple pit of choreography couldn't be done correctly as Buttons and Squabs spent the entire time arguing who was in the correct spot, leading Lillypilly to hex both of them.

What was the most amazing thing about all of this was this was the _fourth_ time _this season_ that Harry had witnessed a Cannons player hex their own teammate. It was the most entertaining part of the game.

The next forty minutes were a blur. Once the Snitch was released and the Quaffle dropped, it was almost an hour of Ginny Weasley reminding everyone why there were some that thought that she might be the best Chaser in the world. In the forty minutes before Gina Oakley caught the Snitch, Ginny scored eleven goals on fourteen attempts, raising her season scoring percentage to a sizzling seventy-four percent.

The League record was an exceptional seventy-one percent.

A record that Ginny had set one year earlier after having broken the previous record of sixty-eight percent.

When all was said and done, The Chudley Cannons suffered their worst loss of the season: 310-50.

Needless to say, Ron, despite his overwhelming support of his sister, was not happy.

Once the match was over, Harry and Ron bid farewell to Dean before heading down to the Visitor's Locker Room to wait for Ginny to exit. Unfortunately, a massive crowd had the same thought and immediately spotted Harry and Ron. After nearly thirty minutes of taking pictures and signing autographs, Ginny finally emerged and the crowd shifted to her for a few minutes before Ginny fought her way through the crowd towards them.

"Good match, Gin," Ron said as he embraced Ginny.

"Honestly, did this even count as a match?" Ginny asked before turning to Harry, hugging him tightly. "I think the two of you could have given us more work."

"Hey, we weren't too shabby back in the day," Harry replied.

"Harry, when was the last time you were on a broomstick?" Ginny asked.

"That's not important."

"You're right. What is important is that we qualified for the European Cup by winning tonight. We're going to The Jester to celebrate. Do you want to come?"

"Is Dean coming?" Harry asked.

"Can't. He has a meeting with Dad and Amos in the morning to help pitch the World Cup."

"And Dad scheduled the meeting that early in the morning? Seems unlike him," Ron replied.

"Amos scheduled the meeting and Amos is Dad's boss now. So, when Amos scheduled the meeting, Dean and Dad both said yes," Ginny replied before turning back to Ginny. "So, you coming out?"

Harry did not want to go out. He had his first official meeting as Head Auror in the morning and he needed to prepare. But it had been awhile since he had seen Ginny and he did miss spending time with her. Plus, Ginny was always very good about ensuring that Harry had a good buffer between him and any groupies that wanted to get close, that buffer being Ginny and her wand.

He had also turned her down the last three or four times she had asked. Much like her mother, Ginny had appointed herself a founding member of the "Get Harry Married" club. The more Harry dug in and attempted to express that he was fine on his own, the more Ginny expressed that he really should find someone to keep him company, even if it wasn't forever. Harry always neglected to remind her that he hated almost everyone that he didn't already know.

"Fine, I'll go."

"Great! What about you?" Ginny said to Ron.

"I think I'm out. Early day for work as well. Plus, I haven't seen Gabrielle all day."

"You two are gross," Ginny replied, rolling her eyes. "Tell Gabby I said hi."

"I'll tell Gabrielle you said hi. The last person who called her Gabby got flame broiled for their trouble."

Harry and Ginny waited for the rest of her teammates before Apparating away from Chudley and back to Diagon Alley. At night, the same backroom where Harry had eaten dinner tonight turned into a special lounge, invitation-only. Tonight, the only one with an invitation were the Holyhead Harpies and their entourage, of which Harry was one of almost three dozen people that went with the ten-woman squad.

Harry and Ginny immediately took a seat at the table furthest from the door, hoping to keep as many people away from Harry as humanly possible. Joining them at the table was Holyhead manager Gwenog Jones and her husband, John, a quiet, unassuming man who had survived nearly thirty-years of marriage by shutting up and letting Gwenog talk, which she did for almost an hour before realizing that Harry was a boring conversationalist, mostly because he found Gwenog obnoxious and foul.

Finally, the Joneses left Harry and Ginny seated alone, which meant that Ginny could immediately go in for the kill.

"When was the last time you went on a date, Harry?"

"Merlin, you couldn't even wait ten seconds," Harry grumbled. "Not even ten seconds they're gone and you're already doing your best Molly impression."

"Take that back," Ginny barked as she punched Harry in the arm. Thankfully, the room was almost impossibly loud and no one else was paying any attention to them.

"I will not take that back," Harry said, rubbing his arm gingerly. "I swear to Merlin, I'm fine."

"You're sad," Ginny fired back. "The sole purpose of your life is avoiding people."

"You're not wrong," Harry said as he threw back a large swig of Fred's Finest. "But you of all people should know why. You know what it's like, having people throw themselves at you all the time. It's too much. I've never been good at it and I certainly never wanted it."

"We know, Harry. Did you ever think that part of the reason you remain so popular is because you hide yourself away from the world?"

"Why would that matter?" Harry asked.

"Because you're a mystery to everyone but those closest to you. Hell, you've become a mystery to use these days, Harry. You're a hero and to most of the world, you will always be a hero and people want to feel like they know their heroes. You spend as much time as possible hiding from the world and, as a result, you've created this enigma for everyone to obsess over."

"I have enough people in my life, Ginny. Everyone else can obsess all they want but I'm not interested in being a public figure any more than I have to be."

"I know. I get it," Ginny replied. "I do have a question. You have friends, people that are there for you at any moment of the day. But what happens when everyone else has...a person in their life? What happens when we start families? What then?"

"You're telling me that everyone is just going to abandon me when they get married or have kids?" Harry asked scathingly. "That's the sign of good friends right there."

"You know what I mean, Harry. Of course, we will always be there for you. But there's a difference between being married and not. I spend far less time with my friends now that I'm married. Even Ron will figure that out whenever he decides to ask Gabrielle and soon enough, even Hermione will find someone who she's compatible with. It'll only get worse when we start families. Between work and his family, we hardly see George anymore, except for Sunday dinners. Everyone wants companionship and once a person has found it, that becomes their priority above everything else."

Harry knew that Ginny was right, at least to a certain extent. He knew that, one day, all of his friends would have families of their own. Harry doubted they would ever abandon him but they would certainly focus less of their time on him. Even now, the only friends that Harry saw consistently outside of work were Hermione and Ron, who was likely going to be getting married soon. Maybe their bi-weekly trips to Chudley would continue, but Harry admitted that he wouldn't be surprised if they decreased in frequency or disappeared altogether.

"Ginny, I want to ask you something."

"OK?" Ginny asked.

"The last time I came here with you, you introduced me to a couple people. One was the sister of a teammate, another was a teammate's former classmate, I think, and there was Gina, too."

"Sounds about right," Ginny said.

"Now, you were clearly trying to set me up on a date, right?"

"Technically, I was trying to set you up on three dates but yes, that was roughly the point."

"Did you ever hear how those dates went?"

Immediately, the expression on Ginny's face changed. When Harry had first mentioned the women that Ginny had tried to set him up with, she had looked excited, likely at the possibility that Harry had found some form of companionship with one of them.

Now, she looked as if someone had poured lemon juice in her firewhiskey.

"I did hear about them," was all that Ginny said.

"What did they say?" Harry asked. Although he had an idea what they had said, he wanted to hear from Ginny.

"All of them said that you weren't a very good date. Seemed like you weren't interested in talking much," Ginny replied. "Don't get me wrong. They all said that you were a perfect gentleman but that it was pretty evident that you didn't want to see them again."

"That's not wrong," Harry admitted.

"Really? I knew all three of those women. I never would have suggested anyone that I thought you would hate."

"They were all perfectly nice women," Harry replied. "Unfortunately, they all had the same thing in common."

"And that is?"

"They were interested in talking about two things: their interactions with Harry Potter at Hogwarts and their interactions with people who knew Harry Potter. Gina spent almost the entire time telling me that she had been a first year when I was in fifth. Apparently, she had spent all year trying to get an invite to Dumbledore's Army. Meanwhile, Amelia, the teammate's classmate, was two years older than me and kept telling me how she always supported me, even when everyone thought that I was the Heir of Slytherin. Jean was the worst. She honestly spent about forty minutes telling me that she had collected every storybook ever written about me, including the series of seven that we written before I had even attended Hogwarts."

"I collected those books, too," Ginny admitted sheepishly.

"Yes, you did. I was also eleven the first time that I met you," Harry countered. "I'm twenty-eight years old. Jean is thirty-three. If we had managed to get to a third date, and she had admitted to me that she had collected the books years ago, and she had been appropriately embarrassed by that fact, then I wouldn't have minded. _But she bought the most recent book three months ago and she bragged about having done so to me!"_

At the end of his rant, Harry looked across the table at Ginny, who looked extremely uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Ginny said, her eyes locked on the glass in her hands.

"It's not your fault," Harry said warmly as he reached across the table and put a finger under Ginny's chin, which he lifted gently so that he could see Ginny's eyes. "It's not. I appreciate what you were trying to do. I really do. I know that I'm not an easy person to get along with anymore. And you were right, I am sad. Ten years later, I'm still sad. I spend most of my nights alone and on some of those bad nights, I think about Cedric and Sirius and Dumbledore and a dozen other people that should be alive. I appreciate that you've never given up on me, none of you have, even when it would have been easy to do that. I appreciate that you keep trying to get me out there and find people for me to be with."

"But most people have no interest in me," Harry said. Just as Ginny opened her mouth to speak, Harry cut her off. "Sure, they're interested in Harry Potter. They want to hear about the Gringotts break-in and the night Voldemort came back, never mind the fact that I watched someone die that night. They want to tell me how they always believed in me, although that is most definitely bullshit."

"But they don't want to know what my favorite color is. They have no interest in what kind of music I like or whether I prefer autumn or spring. All they want is the opportunity to say they went on a date with a legend. The more dangerous ones are the ones that honestly think they want to marry me, whether it's for my money or my fame. They honestly think that they're going to _marry Harry Potter,_ which is just insane."

"That's...I didn't really know that was a thing," Ginny admitted. "Especially with the women that I picked."

"You'd be surprised what exposure to fame can do to a person."

"I'm famous and they know me," Ginny countered.

"Yes, Ginny, but they don't want to date you. Plus, they don't have years and years of stories about you. These women were telling me stories from when they were still learning how to read."

"Well, there is that," Ginny replied. "So I can assume that you don't want me to try and set you up with Grace's cousin?"

Harry laughed. "I think, for the time being, I'm fine being on my own."

Harry and Ginny spent the next hour or so talking about Ginny's Quidditch career and Harry's new job at the Ministry before Harry finally decided to turn in for the night, knowing that he had a big day in front of him.

Sure enough, when Harry arrived at the Ministry the following morning, he was surprised to see the Minister of Magic himself, waiting outside Harry's office.

"Minister Shacklebolt, what can I do for you?" Harry asked as he opened his office door, letting Kingsley walk passed him and into his office.

"I have an update for you before your meeting," Kingsley said. The fact that he hadn't sat down could only mean that Kingsley wasn't planning on staying long.

"Update on what, sir?"

"The Apparition Tracking System. I've had people looking at it ever since we spoke."

"And?"

Kingsley handed Harry a small piece of rolled-up parchment. It wasn't very long at all, taking Harry less than a minute to read the whole thing.

"No one tampered with it?" Harry asked once he had finished reading.

"As far as they can tell, no one has even touched it for months. It's not something that we use very often but, according to the people who maintain it, it would be very obvious if someone had done something to it."

This was the worst possible news that Harry could have received. If there had been evidence of tampering, then Harry would have been able to narrow down his investigation, focusing on people with potential access to the Apparition Tracking System.

Instead, he was nowhere, still unable to determine how the murderer had entered Helen Greene's home. It was a terrifying proposition, knowing that Harry was burning through potential leads left and right without anything to show for them. The further Harry wandered into the waters of this case, the more he worried that he would eventually have to close it without catching the culprit.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, handing the parchment back to him. "I'll keep working on it."

"I know you will."

In that moment, all Harry wanted to do was gather his team of Aurors and dive back into the case. Unfortunately, Harry was no longer a Senior Auror. He didn't have a team of Aurors. He had an entire office of Aurors, all of them requiring his attention. In only a few minutes, Harry would have his first meeting with the entire Office as Head Auror, the first opportunity to establish how he was going to be different than Gawain Robards.

How exactly he was going to do that, even Harry didn't know at the moment. But he did know that he wanted to be different than Robards had been. He wanted to be better.

Just a few minutes later, Harry stood in front of forty-five people, forty-four Aurors and Hermione, who had come to support Harry for his first staff meeting. Before he began, Harry looked back at Hermione and smiled, still amazed that the two of them were at such a place in their lives.

"Before I get into the bulk of this meeting," Harry said, addressing his Aurors, "I want to tell you how...truly honored I feel to have been named Head Auror of such an amazing group of people. We've spent years working to make this one of the best Offices in the entire Ministry and I do believe that we are going to continue that work with the assistance of Department Head Granger."

The room politely applauded Hermione, a few of them looking back to see where she stood. While everyone knew who Hermione Granger was, most of his Aurors were young enough that they only knew her through reputation. As a result, they only really knew her as a Ministry official and the friend of their new Head Auror, meaning that their response to her was mild at best.

"We all know that I did not necessarily get along with my predecessor," Harry said lightly. Most of the Aurors laughed at Harry's understatement. "While he and I may have had different thoughts about how to go about certain things, I cannot overlook the fact that, while Head Auror, he helped make this Office into what it is today."

"Still, we had our differences and for good reason. Starting today, I will be instituting a compliance official for our Office. This person's job will be to ensure that all investigations and subsequent paperwork is to be completed and filed to the letter of the law. We wasted hours getting files double and triple checked because people that should not have been reviewing files were doing just that. No more. We've been good soldiers in the past, then we became good investigators. Now, we're going to become more efficient investigators, matching our skills with a streamlined approach that should speed up all of our processes. In addition, each of the Senior Aurors will take on less cases personally, allowing for more investigations to be run simultaneously with Senior Auror oversight, rather than them leading the investigation personally. All investigations will be run out of my office with a Senior Auror assigned to personally oversee the details of that case."

"Speaking of investigations, I know that the biggest hippogriff in the room is the Helen Greene murder. Rather than be forced to bring a new Senior Auror up to speed, I will be personally running that investigation until it is completed with the assistance of Senior Auror Abigail Edison and her team. My former team of Junior Aurors will also work the case, led by their new Senior Auror."

Immediately, there was a buzzing in the room. No one had expected Harry to say anything particularly interesting this morning. They knew that Harry hated how much time Robards had wasted in the past and they knew that there was no chance that Harry was going to let go of the Greene investigation.

The only thing they couldn't have known was whether or not Harry was going to immediately name a new Senior Auror to replace him. Harry knew that most of the Aurors had expected him to wait a few weeks but Harry had decided to surprise them.

Of course, he had known who his choice was going to be the moment he had considered the thought, so that certainly made his choice easier.

"I am a new Head Auror. As a result, I need Senior Aurors that I can trust, people who share my beliefs on justice and the proper way to carry it out. When I considered that, adding in the usual considerations for ability and seniority, the list was trimmed down to only a handful of witches and wizards."

"Don't misunderstand me. There are plenty of you that would be capable of performing the duties of a Senior Auror and almost assuredly, you will all get your chance someday if you put your time in. But for this position, I wanted only the very best. In the end, the choice was not easy but it was apparent. Ladies and gentlemen, your new Senior Auror will be Elaina Andrews."

No one in the room was surprised at that. There was no question that Elaina had always been Harry's right hand woman. Plus, she was highly respected and never put herself in positions that could get her into trouble. Even among those that could have been considered, Harry could tell that they considered her the perfect choice as well.

"Senior Auror Andrews will have until the end of the week to consider options for the new Junior Auror on her team. Any Rookie Aurors will be available for consideration. If you wish to interview for the position, I ask that you speak to Senior Auror Andrews after this meeting."

Harry looked towards the back of the room where Elaina said, a wide smile on her face and tears in her eyes. Many times over their years of working together, Elaina had articulated a desire to become a Senior Auror and then the Head Auror, eventually. While Harry had no intention of resigning anytime soon (he had the job for less than a week, after all), Harry could already imagine the day when he turned the reins over to her.

"Keep up the good work, Aurors. Senior Aurors, I'll be meeting with each of you individually this week to discuss changes in your caseload. Senior Aurors Edison and Andrews, we'll meet in my office at noon to continue work on the Green investigation. Thank you again everyone. You are dismissed."

Harry had about an hour before Abbi and Elaina would come to his office to discuss the Greene case. During that time, Harry intended to prepare for that meeting while also working on his new case assignment structure.

"Head Auror Potter!"

Harry turned around to see Elaina had followed him out of the room. Harry stopped and turned back to Elaina, allowing her to catch up with him.

"Yes, Senior Auror Andrews?"

Immediately, a large smile flashed across Elaina's face.

"Sir, I just want to...I need to thank you for your support and your encouragement. I would never have become what I am without you."

"Oh, I highly doubt that," Harry said with a chuckle. "Elaina, you remind me very much of Hermione Granger. Not quite as outspoken-"

"Or as brilliant."

"There's a secret about Hermione Granger's work. Would you like to know what it is?"

"Yes, sir," Elaina beamed.

"Hermione Granger is brilliant to be sure. But she wasn't a prodigy because she was brilliant. She was a prodigy because she was dedicated, hard-working, and determined to succeed, no matter the obstacles placed in front of her. Hermione Granger could have been successful without all of that, but then she wouldn't be _Hermione Granger._ Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes, sir."

"I only say that to tell you that, while you are brilliant, of that there is no doubt, it is not why I selected you. Ability can change or fade but determination, hard work: you either have these things or you don't."

"Thank you, sir. I won't let you down," Elaina replied, tears once again streaming down her face.

"See to it that you don't," Harry replied as he noticed Emmett Davies running towards him. "What is it, Davies?"

"Sir, you have to see this," Emmett said before thrusting a piece of parchment into his hands. Quickly, Harry read the brief note, a feeling of dread burrowing itself deep inside Harry's heart.

"Sir, what is it?" Elaina asked.

It was his worst nightmare, the very worst possible option. Harry's hands shook as he lowered the paper from his face, running his hands through his hair, and uttered four of the most damning words Harry had ever said.

"There's been another murder."


	8. Another Victim

Less than an hour later, Harry stood on the banks of a small pond in Cambridge where the body of a second murder victim had been found. At first, Harry had been uncertain that the murder was connected to the murder of Helen Greene. That was until one of the Aurors had fished the victim out of the water and laid him at Harry's feet.

The victim was Michael Darke, a thirty-five year old man who worked at a shop in Hogsmeade. Darke was a tall, lanky man with a head full of bright red hair. For a moment, Harry was convinced that the body was one of the Weasleys until he was able to get a closer look at the victim and he was truly able to confirm that one of the Weasleys had not been found at the bottom of a pond.

The reason that Harry immediately believed that Darke had been murdered by their mysterious killer was the method of death: Muggle methods made easier by magic. While Helen Greene had been crucified by being bolted to her ceiling, Michael Darke had been drowned. However, to say that he had been drowned was simplifying things just a bit. When Darke's body had been pulled out of the water, he had two large chains attached to each of his legs with a ten pound weight on the end of each of them. His wand had been found on the edge of the water.

Twenty pounds wasn't enough to drown someone, at least not quickly. The person in question likely wouldn't be able to swim anywhere with that much weight on their legs but they would be able to tread water for a brief enough period of time. That meant that Michael Darke had likely spent the last few minutes of his life looking at his wand just a few feet away from him, desperately trying to discover a way to get to it and likely knowing that there was no way to do that.

It had probably taken Darke, a man of some decent physical conditioning, almost twenty minutes before the weights on his legs truly impacted his ability to keep his head above the water. At that point, his head would have likely begun to dip under the water repeatedly, allowing him enough time to get above the water, collect some air before being dragged under again. Over time, the amount of time he spent above the water would be overcome by the amount of time he spent under it.

In all, it would have taken almost a full hour before Darke's head finally slipped under the water, never to come back up. From there, it could have taken him anywhere from one to fifteen minutes before he finally died, a death so prolonged and painful that Harry could barely imagine that anyone would be callous enough to inflict that kind of tragedy on another human being.

But as Harry looked down at Michael Darke, all he could see was the motionless corpse of Helen Greene. Harry had no doubt that this was a second act by the same murderer, just a few weeks after their first attack. Harry felt a chill run down his spine as he thought that it was possible that their murderer was just now beginning a spree of these kinds of attacks. It was likely that the cooling off period between each attack would end sooner and sooner as the murderer felt an almost pathological need to inflict this kind of control and damage on their prey.

There was no other way to put it: they were likely looking at the first wizarding serial killer in over one hundred years.

"Harry?"

Harry turned around to where Hermione and his entire team of Senior Aurors stood behind him, all of them waiting for him to say something.

"Is it as bad as you thought?" Hermione asked.

"Worse," Harry admitted, looking back at the blue color of Michael Darke's face. Even though he knew that it wasn't Ron, Harry still couldn't shake the feeling that this attack felt personal for some reason.

"What do we do, sir?" Elaina asked.

"We wait and we watch," Harry replied as he marched back around to the front of Michael Darke's home, a quaint house just a few miles from Cambridge University. Across the street was a Muggle office building that Harry intended to use to their advantage.

Turning around, he was glad to see that all five of his Senior Aurors had followed him.

"This now becomes priority number one for all Aurors," Harry said darkly. "I want every Auror in the Office down here. Andrews, Fawley, and Law, I want you to take your teams and interview every person in a four block radius. Edison and Dawlish, your teams are going to rotate stakeout duties on the top of that building over there. Twelve hour shifts and there needs to be a Junior Auror on duty at all times. I want a log of every single person that walks down this street and if anyone stops at that house for longer than a few seconds, we're going to track them down. Any questions?"

Rather than answer him, all five Senior Aurors marched off in separate directions, almost assuredly looking to contact their teams and get started on their assignments. Once they were gone, Hermione approached Harry, a look of concern on her face.

"Are you okay?"

"I've done this dozens of times before, Hermione," Harry snapped back. "Of course, I'm okay."

Hermione looked around to make sure that no one was paying attention to either of them. Then, she grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him back into the house, out of sight of the others.

"Don't give me that, Harry Potter," Hermione said. "I know there's something bothering you. I know you. Now, what is it?"

Harry knew that Hermione was right. There was rarely ever any doubt that Hermione was correct. In this instance, however, Harry wasn't going to share that fact with her. Between the fact that Harry had never told her about the strange sensation he had felt outside of his home and the weird feeling that was growing inside of him that these attacks were meant for him in some way, Harry didn't feel comfortable simply spitting out that information, especially without any data to back up either feeling.

"I was too slow," Harry said. He wasn't exactly lying to Hermione. He had been too slow but that certainly wasn't his primary source of concern. "If we had been better, Michael Darke might still be alive today."

"Then be better now. Make sure that there are no other victims," Hermione replied. "You can't change the past. Fix the future."

"You're right," Harry replied, once again knowing that Hermione was correct, even if she didn't really know why. "I know that you want to keep track of this investigation. But I intend to stay here with the stakeout group until we find something."

"Do you want me to leave, Harry?"

"I can't ask you to do anything," Harry reminded Hermione. "But it is certainly going to make the Aurors less twitchy with you around."

"Why would I make them...twitchy?"

"Because you are the Head of the Department," Harry responded. "You are my boss now. If you're around, they are going to spend the entire time wondering when you are going to take the investigation over."

"I have faith in you. I would never do that."

"Don't say that," Harry replied. "You never know what might happen. You're going to do your job well, no matter what that means for you and me, same as I would. If that means replacing me or ordering me to do something I don't want to do, then that's what you need to do. That's exactly why it's difficult for the Aurors right now. Most of them know about our personal history-"

"How much of it?" Hermione said with a strangely out of character wink.

"They know what the papers have told them. They know we're friends. It means that they're waiting to see how we're going to interact together. Normally, I would be fine with putting that to the test, but right now, I need their attention on this case, not worrying about how their bosses are going to work together."

"I get it. We'll put our work relationship to the test later," Hermione replied. "You'll keep me up to date."

"I'm going to have someone send you a message every hour."

"Wonderful," Hermione replied before immediately Disapparating.

With Hermione gone, Harry could focus on getting the stakeout teams situated. Harry raced across the street and up the stairs where Abbi and Senior Auror Paul Dawlish were in the process of organizing a rotating schedule of Aurors to watch the house.

"What do you have?" Harry asked.

"Nothing," Dawlish replied. While Harry's first experience with Paul Dawlish had been Dumbledore's thoroughly vicious takedown of Dawlish in the Headmaster's Office, Harry had since learned that Dawlish was an incredibly gifted Auror. While he was not particularly gifted with his wand, he was quite the investigator and a wonderful leader of people.

It was just unfortunate that he had chosen to tie the future of his career to Cornelius Fudge, effectively ensuring that Senior Auror was as high as he would ever go. Dawlish, more than once, had expressed a great deal of disappointment in his decision-making. It had been one of the reasons that Harry had come to trust the man after his initial experiences with him.

"What do you mean nothing?"

"Harry, you gave us this assignment five minutes ago," Dawlish countered.

"That's Head Auror, Paul," Abbi replied.

"It's fine, Abbi," Harry shot back. "I know Paul means no disrespect. Call me whatever you like but in five minutes, if you haven't figured out a watch schedule, I'm going to be displeased."

"Yes, sir," Abbi replied just as Dawlish was clearly getting ready to push back again. "We'll have it done."

Sure enough, four minutes later, Abbi came over to him with a schedule in hand. As Harry scanned the parchment in his hand, Abbi looked over his shoulder, clearly hoping that their work would be good enough for Harry.

"Your team is up first?" Harry asked Abbi as he handed the paper back.

"Yes. Dawlish is going to take his team back to the office and get to work on trying to archive all of the data we have thus far on this murder and then work on connecting it with the Greene murder."

"Good," Harry said before turning to Dawlish. "Paul, when you are ready to connect with the Greene murder, get Elaina's team in there with you. They've been working on this from the beginning."

"Of course, sir," Dawlish said before waving towards his team. Immediately, all of them Disapparated, leaving Harry alone on the roof with Abbi and the rest of her team, all of whom had set up different watch positions along the roof of the building. One of them faced the house while the other two faced down the street in opposite directions, allowing them to track anyone coming down the street.

"What are you planning on doing?" Abbi asked.

"I'm staying here for the time being. If we don't have anything by tomorrow morning, then I'll return to the office and meet with Paul and Elaina to see how their work is coming."

"We can handle this, sir," Abbi protested gently. "You should be at the Ministry."

"I will be here," Harry replied. "I have an inkling that the murderer will return to the scene of the crime."

"Really? Why?"

Harry wasn't about to tell Abbi about his encounter with the old man just yet.

"Just a hunch," Harry said before conjuring a chair on the edge of the building, where he sat. To be honest, Harry had expected the culprit to return to the scene of the crime rather quickly. There was something about this kind of crime, plus the fact that he had repeatedly returned to the crime scene in Oxford, that led Harry to believe that this murderer wanted people to know that he was the one who had committed these horrific crimes.

But it had taken almost fifteen hours, just after six o'clock in the morning, for something to happen. Harry had sat in that chair through three shift changes before he had finally conjured a cot to sleep on. He had intended to sleep for only an hour but less than forty minutes later, Harry was roughly awoken by Abbi, who stood over him with a look of concern on her face.

"Sir, I need you to wake up."

"What is it?" Harry said, snapping to his feet in one fluid motion. "Is he here?"

"He?"

"Nevermind, what is the problem?"

"Sir, just after you laid down, she appeared."

The person in question was an elderly woman, standing directly across the street from the front door of Michael Darke's house. Immediately, Harry was confused. Was it possible that the murderer was using Polyjuice Potion? Harry didn't remember seeing the old man drinking anything for the almost two hours he sat in front of Helen Greene's home, but Harry could also admit that he hadn't really been looking for something like that. The only other option was that the murderer was an incredibly gifted Metamorphmagus, if the woman down there was the old man after all.

That all rest on the assumption that the old man was the murderer in the first place.

"Get down there," Harry barked to Abbi. "Take her in for questioning."

"What if she's a Muggle?"

"We'll figure that out later," Harry said as he sprinted down the stairs, following some of the other Aurors who had already taken off ahead of him. Normally, Harry would have simply Apparated down to the sidewalk, but considering they were once again in a Muggle neighborhood, Harry didn't dare do that, even at this early hour.

By the time Harry got down to the street level, all Harry saw were three Aurors sprinting down the sidewalk. Harry immediately tore off after them.

"Where is she?" Harry shouted.

"When she saw us, she took off running," Justin Finch-Fletchley replied. "There's something not right here. She was far too fast for her age."

"In there!" one of the Rookie Aurors shouted, pointing to an apartment building with the front door hanging wide open. "She ran in there!"

"Surround the building!" Harry shouted to the Rookie before turning back to Justin. "I want Anti-Apparition wards up now."

"We'll get to work on it," Justin said just as Abbi approached Harry.

"Wands out. We're going in."

Harry, with Abbi directly behind him, walked through the open front door. To their left and right were a set of stairs that lead up to the second floor. The apartment building itself was simple enough: three stories tall with eight apartments, four on either side of the central area. On the ground floor, you could access any of the eight doors from the main area but on the second and third floors, the center of the floor was cut away, meaning that a person could look from the ground floor all the way up to the glass ceiling on the top floor.

It also meant that Harry could see that there was a door open on the third floor.

"I don't know what the hell that woman is, but she's not getting away," Harry growled as he pointed to the open door. "You go to the far side and I'll meet you at that door. If you see anything between here and there, let me know."

"Got it," Abbi said as she raced down the length of the first floor towards the stairs. At the same time, Harry tore up the stairs three at a time until he reached the top floor, his wand out in front of him. As Harry walked towards the door, he could only be thankful that it was as early as it was. It meant that he could use his wand in public without much concern of a Muggle seeing him.

As Harry reached the door, Harry was suddenly overwhelmed by a terrible odor. It was clearly coming from the open door. Harry had been relatively certain that this was where their target had gone but the smell coming from the apartment solidified that for him. When Abbi approached the door on the other side, Harry noticed that she seemed to pause for a moment, clearly trying not to vomit all over the floor.

"Are you ready?" Harry asked.

"With that smell? Are you fucking kidding me?" Abbi growled. But, as she said this, Harry noticed that she had attached her wrist holster to her wand, making it incredibly difficult to Disarm her. Despite the horrible odor, she was ready to go.

Harry latched his own wrist holster to his wand before turning and kicking the door in. The apartment was small but incredibly well furnished. Whoever lived there clearly had a good paying job as the high ceilings were adorned with not one but two small crystal chandeliers. The entryway and living room were empty as Abbi pushed passed Harry so that he could cover her as she began to check the kitchen, which was also empty.

Every room in the apartment was empty, except for the last one: the master bedroom. The closer that Harry and Abbi got, the more vile the smell got. If there was a clearer sign that they were getting closer to their target, Harry couldn't think of one.

Harry pushed the door open and immediately wished that he hadn't. If the murders of Helen Greene and Michael Darke had been brutal, then Harry didn't have a word to describe this one. A body was strung out on the bed, a large rope tied to each wrist and ankle that was then attached to the four bed posts. The ropes were pulled so tight that each joint was bleeding profusely and the body was actually being hoisted off the bed several inches.

However, that wasn't what truly caught Harry's attention. Covering the body were thousands of small incisions, cuts that could have only been made by magic. Most of them had scabbed over and looked horribly infected, which likely would have killed the person. Of course, that had become a moot point where whoever had tortured them had removed their bowels, which were piled on the bed immediately next to the body.

"Merlin…" Harry whispered to himself just as he heard the sound of something wet hitting the floor behind him. Harry turned around to see Abbi vomiting all over the floor behind him. To be honest, he couldn't blame her. This was as horrific an act of violence as Harry had ever seen. Unfortunately, it was also about to be a crime scene.

"Get out of here," Harry said. "Get the rest of them up here so that we can start collecting evidence."

"Yes, sir," Abbi replied, still clearly fighting back the urge to throw up. Harry watched her go before Vanishing the pile of vomit she had left on the floor. Then, he turned back to the body, something that he desperately did not want to do. Harry made his way to the far side of the bed, being careful not to touch anything. As Harry got closer, he could see that the bed was almost completely saturated in blood. Well, covered in blood anyway. The blood had long since dried and was likely half of the reason for the horrible smell, the other half being the massive open wound in the middle of the corpse.

Harry was about to start to examine the body when he noticed something that terrified him. The victim had not been a young person, likely well into their eighties at the time of death. In fact, as Harry would find out later, the woman had been eighty-four when she had been killed nearly two weeks earlier.

Yet somehow, she had been standing outside Michael Darke's home just ten minutes earlier. Even with the loss of blood and the discoloration that two weeks post mortem had caused, Harry could easily tell that this was the woman he had seen from the roof of the apartment building just a few minutes ago.

Harry knew that it wasn't possible to use material from a dead person for Polyjuice Potion, which eliminated that theory. That left only-

_"Hello, Harry Potter."_

A cold wave fell over Harry that was so strong he collapsed to the floor. This was different than a dementor. It came without the memories but it made him feel worse by a margin that was difficult to describe. Harry couldn't concentrate and he felt as if he was simply going to slip away and die, the cold was so debilitating.

Suddenly, the old woman kneeled down in front of him, a horrifying smile on her face. That smile slowly began to morph the longer Harry looked at it. While the smile never faded, the face behind it did, shifting into that of the old man that Harry had followed outside Helen Greene's home.

There was no question: this was the culprit. Whatever this thing was, it was what had killed Helen Greene and Michael Darke and the woman on the bed behind him.

 _"I've been so looking forward to meeting you, Harry,"_ it said, its lips never moving as that horrifying smile remained plastered on its face. _"I've heard so much about you."_

Harry couldn't move. He couldn't speak. He couldn't do anything but sit there and watch that smile, an image that would be burned into his mind forever. The voice didn't come from its mouth, it came from its mind, speaking directly into Harry's mind as if Harry were speaking to himself. The voice was uncharacteristically warm but also so full of hate and malice that it made Harry wish he were dead, if only to get away from it.

 _"You will die, Harry Potter,"_ the voice said, almost as if it had read Harry's mind. At that moment, Harry was certain that it had read his mind. Everything that Harry knew about Legilimency and Occlumency told him that wasn't possible, but this thing was something that Harry had never seen before. It wasn't a Metamorphmagus, the transformations were too complete for that. Even the most talented Metamorphmagus weren't capable of changing their body composition, just their facial characteristics.

Whatever it was that sat in front of Harry, it was no ordinary man. That was the only thing that Harry knew for certain.

 _"You will die, Harry Potter, by my hand,"_ the voice repeated. _"Fear not, your death will not be painful. Everything leading up to your death will be excruciating for you and those closest to you unfortunately."_

With a single touch of his index finger to Harry's forehead, Harry suddenly felt a sharp prick of pain and then he felt no more. The next thing he knew, he was being shaken by someone.

"Harry! Wake up!"

It was Abbi, who had two other Aurors standing behind her, all of them looking down at Harry in concern.

"Abbi?" Harry asked, uncertain of what exactly had happened. Had the voice, that thing been a dream? An image? Some sort of terrifying hallucination? Harry could only hope that but the more he thought about it, the more real that image became in his mind and he knew that whatever that thing was, it was certainly real.

"Abbi, did we get it?"

"No," Abbi replied. "Whatever it was, it burst out into the hallway and took down six Aurors with a single wave of its hand and then disappeared."

"You mean Disapparated."

"Not possible," Abbi countered. "Justin had Anti-Apparition wards up. We even tested them once the thing disappeared and it was impossible to leave."

Whoever had killed Helen Greene had Apparated in and out of her house without alerting the Apparition Tracking System. Whatever kind of magic this being was using, it wasn't Apparition as they knew it.

"You said it just waved its hand? No wand?"

"No wand," Abbi confirmed. "And a wave of the hand might have been overstating it, the man barely flicked his wrist and two teams of Aurors went flying."

As Abbi spoke, Harry worked his way back up to his feet, feeling weaker than he had in years. In fact, the only time that Harry could remember feeling more drained was the day after the Battle of Hogwarts when Harry had spent almost the whole day in the Hospital Wing, recovering from taking a Killing Curse in the chest. Then, he had felt drained of his magic, as if the Killing Curse had done everything but the thing it was intended to do.

Now, there was no Killing Curse to survive. Just a touch on the head. The thing had barely touched Harry and this was the result? What was this entity? Harry didn't have an encyclopedic knowledge of Dark creatures and he certainly didn't know all the ways that a person could increase their power using Dark magic but this felt like something else. This was like nothing that Harry had ever faced before, something that he never thought he would ever say again after having defeated Riddle.

"I'm going back to the Ministry," Harry said, stumbling through the room, barely able to hold himself upright. "Once you have more information, bring it to me."

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" Abbi asked. "You can barely walk."

"I'll be fine," Harry said, not certain of that at all. "Abbi, I'm placing you in charge of this crime scene. Figure out who this is and then bring me everything we have on her."

"Yes, sir," Abbi replied, still focusing on Harry, who was now using the walls to hold himself upright. It took Harry almost ten minutes before he made it out to the exterior of the building where Hermione was waiting for him.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked as Hermione immediately threw her head under Harry's arm, using her shoulders to keep Harry upright.

"I heard you had been attacked," Hermione said, knowing that was all the explanation that either of them needed. "Let's get you back to the Ministry."

"No argument there."

They walked far enough away from the building to get outside the Anti-Apparition wards before Hermione Apparated the both of them back to the Apparition point at the Ministry, where Harry promptly passed out a second time.

When he awoke, he found himself staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling with Hermione sitting next to him, a stack of files in her lap that she was ignoring.

"Where am I?" Harry asked.

"My office," Hermione replied, waving her wand over Harry. "I've had a Healer in to see you and you should be fine as long as you rest for a couple days."

"What happened to me?"

"It looks like you burned out all of your magic. Since you've been at least casually using magic since you were eight, your body doesn't know what to do without magic."

"Wonderful."

"How did it happen?" Hermione asked as she finished running her tests.

Harry was about to tell her when Abbi Edison walked into the room.

"What do you have?" Harry asked as he struggled to sit up on the couch.

"The victim's name was Louise Long. She had worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation since 1983. Graduated from Hogwarts in '80 and was a member of Ravenclaw House."

Abbi was about to tell Harry more about Louise Long when something clicked in Harry's head.

"Louise Long was in Ravenclaw?"

"Yes, sir. Does that matter?"

"I'm not sure," Harry lied, his mind suddenly running a mile a minute. "Put the report on my desk. I'll read it in a few minutes."

Clearly understanding that Harry was dismissing her, Abbi gave Harry a brief nod before walking out the door.

"You lied to her."

"I did."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"We know three victims at the moment. We know Helen Greene who worked in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. We know Michael Darke who had red hair and worked in Hogsmeade. Now, we know Louise Long who was a Ravenclaw."

Hermione looked at Harry, clearly confused at the point that he was trying to make.

"Do we know any other Ravenclaws with the initials LL?"

"The only one I can think of is Luna," Hermione replied.

"What about a redhead who works in Hogsmeade?"

"Ron," Hermione replied, beginning to understand Harry's point. "And I used to work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

"And your initials are HG," Harry added. "The thing that is killing these people, it's what did this to me, Hermione. It took a finger, touched my forehead, and in a second, I was unconscious."

"You met it?"

"It was waiting for me when we found Louise Long's body," Harry replied. "It was the old man and it was the old lady that we saw outside Michael Darke's home today. Whatever this thing is, it's not human and it's targeting me. Right now, it's just using people that represent my friends."

"But that's not your real concern, is it?" Hermione asked, reading Harry's mind almost as quickly as that thing did. "You're worried that it's going to come after us."

"It told me that my death wouldn't be excruciating but that everything leading up to that would be for me...and for those closest to me," Harry replied. "So, yes, I think that this thing, whatever it is, is just warming up and I think that when the time comes, it is coming after all of you."


	9. We Are...

Ten minutes later, Harry, with the assistance of a magically-conjured cane, and Hermione sat in his office, the door locked and sealed behind a number of enchantments. The glass wall that separated Harry from the rest of the Aurors was now covered in photos, personal information, and documentation that connected the three targets with the three people that Harry believed they represented.

"What does this mean?" Hermione asked, pacing in front of the wall. "You said you don't know what this thing is?"

"No idea. I've spent half my life dealing with Dark wizards and creatures and I've never experienced anything like it," Harry replied, his legs still wobbling as he leaned onto the cane that kept him upright.

"Why would it target you? And if it is targeting you, why isn't it just going after you? Why did it let you go? It could have just killed you in Cambridge."

"Hermione…" Harry said, trying to slow Hermione's train of thought. Unfortunately, there was nothing known to man that could slow down the brain of Hermione Granger.

"Where has it been all this time? Why wait until now?"

"Hermione!" Harry said, scaring her into silence as she collapsed onto the couch on the far side of the room. "I'm sorry. I know you have a lot of questions but we don't have the answers you're looking for."

"Tell me what it said again."

"I don't remember exactly. Just that I would die and that everything that lead to my death would be painful for me and those around me."

"And we're assuming that this thing killed Darke and Greene as well?" Hermione asked.

"It fits the pattern," Harry replied. "All three deaths were done in horribly painful ways. If causing pain is the MO, then this thing is certainly the prime candidate at the moment."

"This is…" Hermione said before falling silent. On only the rarest of occasions did something cause Hermione Granger to lack the right words.

This one certainly applied.

"So, we have to ignore the truly terrifying questions and focus on the immediate issues," Hermione said suddenly. "Why is he going after you?"

Unfortunately, that was the question that Harry had been asking over and over in his head ever since he had woken up back at the Ministry. At the moment, Harry had no viable answers. He knew almost nothing about whatever it was that was hunting him, other than it was powerful to such a degree that Harry wasn't even certain how he could fight it.

Riddle had, in the end, been a man. He might have been incredibly powerful, capable of magic that most people only dream of but he had still been a man. When that Killing Curse had rebounded, he had died just like anyone else. But this...thing? Harry knew almost nothing about it but he was already sure that a simple Killing Curse wasn't going to cut it.

Something about this enemy felt like...more, like they were dealing with the kind of power that had been left to the fairy tales of old, the kind of power that could destroy mountains and slay dragons with a single spell. With just a single touch of his finger, that being had knocked Harry unconscious and drained him of his entire magical reserve, not to mention the terrible cold sensation that it seemed to generate.

"I don't know," Harry finally said, the weakness in his own voice frightening him. "I know absolutely nothing about this...about any of this."

Harry collapsed into the chair behind him, unable to stand any longer.

"Harry!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Harry said, despite all evidence to the contrary. Weakly, Harry reached out for his mirror, taking it in his hands. "Elaina Andrews."

Moments later, the image of Elaina Andrews appeared on the mirror in his hand.

"Sir, what can I do for you?"

"Come here, please," Harry said, knowing that what he was about to do was going to cause a rather severe reaction from Hermione. Still, despite the fear that Harry felt deep in his bones, a fear that Harry had never truly experienced before, he was incapable of doing nothing.

After Elaina knocked on the door, Harry removed on the enchantments on the door, a feat that should not have tired him out yet left him feeling utterly exhausted. Harry noticed the look of surprise as she walked in the room, clearly taken aback by the image of Harry with a cane in his hand, barely able to stand, Hermione kneeling on the floor next to him, the concern on her face evident.

"Sir, what can I do for you?"

"What I am about to tell you is not going to leave this room. Is that understood?" Harry asked.

"Of course, sir," Elaina confirmed, although the confusion on her face continued to build.

"I ran into the attacker today in Louise Long's apartment," Harry said softly. Even though there was no chance that the sound could leave his office, Harry wanted to make sure that no one could hear what Harry was about to say.

"It is immensely powerful and it is coming after me and my family."

"Did he do this to you, sir?" Elaina asked. Almost anyone else would have been too terrified to ask that question, but Elaina knew that she was special, different in Harry's own estimation. She could ask the questions that others simply could not.

"I don't know if we can call it a 'he,' but yes, _he_ did this to me," Harry said. "I do not know what kind of being it is, but if it is going after my family, then I am going to do everything in my power to prevent that."

"To that end, I want round the clock supervision on the Weasleys, all of them, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, and Hermione."

"Excuse me?" Hermione replied before turning to Elaina. "Would you excuse us a moment?"

"Uhm, yes, ma'am," Elaina said, turning to the door.

"Don't go far," Harry said. Elaina gave a brief nod and then walked out the door, clearly just waiting on the other side of the door. Hermione waved her wand, doubling down on the sound cancelling enchantment before turning back to Harry.

"Round the clock supervision? Did you think to check with me before you authorized that?"

"It's my job to ensure the safety of our citizens," Harry countered. "Regardless of the fact that you are my family, in this instance, my duty to protect you comes first."

"What about the fact that I outrank you? What if I tell you that I don't need protection?"

Harry had known that Hermione was going to be against this course of action. More than anyone that he knew (other than himself), Hermione valued her independence. With round the clock supervision, Hermione would be forced to submit to an Auror guard, telling them where she was going, and allowing them to follow her everywhere except for the privy.

It also meant that there were going to be no dinner dates or any kind of late night rendezvous with Harry for the foreseeable future, something that Harry was willing to sacrifice if it meant keeping his family safe.

Still, Harry hadn't counted on Hermione being so quick to throw rank around. However, he was more than willing to throw that back in her face. Normally, he would have been more concerned for her feelings but at the moment, her safety, and the safety over everyone else who might be threatened by the monster that hunted him, was his primary concern.

"Kingsley would agree with me," Harry countered.

"You would go over my head?"

"Think about this: something happens to you or Ron or Fleur or Molly or any number of people. Almost all the people that I just listed are some of the most famous people in our society due to their role in the war. Now, I tell Kingsley that we have the chance to protect them but that it will require an armed guard accompanying all of them, what do you think he's going to say? Because I think he'll be willing to protect his newly appointed Head of Magical Law Enforcement above anything else."

"That might be so," Hermione said, clearly conceding Harry's point. "But don't you think it's a bit extreme? I know that you are scared. I can see it. But you've never let fear drive your actions."

"I've never been this afraid before."

"Why? What's so different about this? We've gone against Death Eaters and Riddle himself! We broke into Gringotts and started the final battle of the war basically on accident! What's so different about this time?"

"Nothing is different," Harry said. "I just have a different level of responsibility than the last time. I was a child then, being dragged along by a war that I didn't start or really want any place in."

"And now?"

"It doesn't matter whether I had anything to do with this monster before, I have a responsibility to protect people. For ten years that has been my job and in those ten years, I have never, not one time, allowed someone to die on my watch and I will not have the first person be one of my family!"

That last line came out as more of a shout than anything else and with as much energy as Harry could muster, he had driven himself to his feet.

"More than anything," Harry said, his voice now barely above a whisper, "when I became an Auror, I said that I was going to protect people. So many people died because I had been too slow or too stupid or too weak to protect them. When I put on this badge, I told myself that I would never allow that to happen again."

"Harry, those deaths weren't-"

"My fault," Harry said, cutting Hermione off. "I've heard that before, Hermione. Logically, I know that it's true but somewhere, deep down inside of me, there's a part of me that knows that if I had been better, some of them might still be alive."

Harry turned to Hermione, knowing that there was part of this story that she didn't quite understand.

"A couple of weeks back, I Apparated home. When I landed, I felt a chill, an unnatural chill. At the time, I thought it was a Dementor."

The look of realization that crossed Hermione's face let Harry know that she understood exactly what he was talking about.

"This thing was in the woods outside my house, Hermione. It was watching me. I sent Prongs all around the clearing and he turned up nothing. I could feel that cold, the same cold I felt in Oxford, both times a pale imitation of the sensation that it hit me with today. That means one of two things: either it somehow got inside my wards, which should be impossible."

"Or you could feel it through the wards," Hermione said, finishing Harry's line of thinking. "That can't be possible."

"Hermione, you've tried to Apparate into my home when I had the wards turned on. It's not possible. Of course, Helen Greene was killed by someone who managed to Apparate in and out of her house without alerting the Ministry."

Harry turned to Hermione, doing his best not to frighten her while also letting her know just what kind of threat they face.

"I can't protect you, Hermione. I know you don't need my protection but I've always felt good knowing that if something did come after any of you, I could be there. There's no doubt that I am one of the most gifted wizards in the world when it comes to Defense magic. But I don't know if anything that I know can stop this beast."

"I...understand," Hermione said. "I don't like this, but I will accept the protection."

"Thank you," Harry said, wrapping his arms around Hermione, pulling her tight. Harry knew that this wasn't exactly how he was supposed to interact with his boss, but in the moment, he found he didn't care.

"What are you going to do?" Hermione asked, her voice vibrating in Harry's ear.

"I'll move into one of the safe houses we have around the city. I'll keep moving until we figure this out."

"Why can't we just move in with you?"

"It's a thought," Harry admitted. "But I don't want to frighten people. You, me, Elaina: that's all that needs to know the truth at the moment. If things get worse, we can always consolidate later."

Hermione broke away from Harry suddenly, causing Harry to begin to topple over. Only a well timed intervention from his cane kept him on his feet.

"Wait, you are going to put these people under supervision, your friends and family, and you aren't going to tell them why?"

"I'm going to tell them a version of the truth," Harry replied. "Someone has threatened me and my loved ones. The threat seems viable so as a precautionary measure, everyone is getting armed guards. They'll accept that."

"They'll hate it, especially Ginny."

"They'll deal with it," Harry countered. "I know that this isn't ideal. To be honest, I'm not even certain that protecting them is going to do anything, but I'm not going to simply idly sit by."

"I understand," Hermione said, although she was clearly uncomfortable with the idea. "I suppose I do have to approve of that, don't I?"

"I mean, you could make life difficult by countermanding my orders, but I would appreciate it if you didn't do that."

"I trust you," Hermione replied. "You need to go get some rest."

"I have work to do."

Hermione immediately placed her hands on top of his, which were resting on the top of his cane.

"I'm accepting protection, Harry, as are about a dozen other people. You are going home and getting some rest. That is an order."

Harry doubted he would hear those words come out of her mouth very often. In this instance, Harry would gladly follow their direction, knowing that it was better off for him.

"Fine. I'll be at Safe House Four."

"Why Safe House Four?"

"Because I'm fairly comfortable there," Harry replied. "Safe House Four is Grimmauld Place. When I sold it, the Ministry bought it and turned it into one of their Safe Houses."

"Well, then you should feel right at home...in a way," Hermione replied before her face dropped suddenly.

"What is it?"

"I...you didn't tell me about the beast outside your home."

"At the time, I didn't think it was important."

Hermione stared at Harry, her face harder than usual. "And after Oxford?"

Harry knew that Hermione would eventually come to this point and he honestly deserved the scolding. He had been stupid. Both as his closest friend and his boss, she should have known that something was following Harry, especially if that something was somehow related to the grizly murder he was investigating.

"After Oxford, I was just being dense," Harry replied. "It won't happen again."

"It shouldn't. I want you to be able to talk to me, Harry. I may be your boss but I am your friend before any of that."

"I know," Harry said, suddenly feeling very weak as he slid back onto his desk. "You were right. I need some rest."

"I'll send you an owl if anything pressing comes up," Hermione said. "Can you make it to Grimmauld Place?"

"Yes, I have the keys to the Safe Houses right here. They act as Portkeys to the front of the house. You'll tell Elaina where I've gone?"

"I will," Hermione replied, her hand touching Harry's gently. "Now get out of here."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said as he reached inside his desk and retrieved the key for Safe House Four. The keychain was simple, a key and a small button that activated the Porkey, which would send Harry right to the front step of Grimmauld Place.

With a tired smile, Harry pressed the button and was immediately transported, both in location and back in time. For roughly a year after the war, Harry had lived in Grimmauld Place, trying desperately to make it his own. He spent a significant bulk of his fortune trying to remove Mrs. Black from the wall. It was eventually decided that the best way to remove her would be to remove the wall and then destroy the painting. Harry jokingly suggested that they should do it away from people as it was possible that she might try to defend herself.

The experts did not find that joke as funny as Harry did.

Still, after a year of renovations and improvements that made the home significantly more habitable, Harry realized that he could no longer live there. It reminded him too much of Sirius, which in turn reminded him of Lupin and Tonks. After a particularly rough night of dreams, Harry had put the house on the market. Unfortunately, no one was interested in a property that had formerly belonged to Sirius Black. Even after having been cleared, Sirius' reputation never truly recovered in the eyes of the public.

After nearly ten months of having the house up for sale, Kingsley suggested that the Ministry buy it as a safe house, a deal that Harry could not turn down. It was apparent as Harry used the key to unlock the front door that the Ministry had gutted the place. In fact, there was so little that was the same about the original house that if Harry hadn't known exactly where he was going, he would have never known that he had been here before.

Slowly, Harry wandered the house, looking in on the room that he had shared with Ron in his fifth year and then Sirius' old bedroom that he had used as his own while they had hid there. Everything from both rooms had been removed, a single simple bed in the middle of each room and a dresser across from it. While Harry was glad that someone had found a use for the house, he had to admit a slight bit of sadness that they had torn down the posters from Sirius' room. They had been the only bit of character in the entire place that Harry had actually liked.

They weren't bad to look at either, if Harry was being honest.

It took Harry almost ten minutes to get from the third floor back to the kitchen on the ground level, which had also been significantly upgraded since Harry had last lived here. Of course, when it was possible that an entire team of Aurors, plus any people that might need protecting, would be living here, the set-up that had been in place before simply wouldn't do. The fact that Molly had made it work for the Order all those years ago was something just short of a Christmas miracle.

Harry was in the process of frying up some potatoes on the stove-top when he had the sensation that he was being watched. Normally, Harry would have thought himself paranoid, but considering everything that he had seen that day, he wasn't going to take any chances. Whipping his wand out of his wrist holster, Harry turned and fired a Stunning spell in the general direction that where he had felt the eyes on his back.

The Stunner was easily deflected by a man sitting in the chair at the end of the table. Harry quickly twitched his wrist, readying himself to fire again when he suddenly found himself incapable of movement. He was frozen in place, nothing to be done except to sit and wait for something to happen.

At the far end of the table sat a man. He wore a finely tailored black suit, his hair white and parted perfectly to one side. While Harry had never seen the man before, Harry doubted that he needed to guess who it was. It was him, the monster that was hunting him down. Somehow, he had managed to break through the dozens of layers of wards that surrounded this house to get inside and then without even a move of his hand, he had frozen Harry in place.

He had Harry completely at his mercy, that horrible smile on his face.

" _Have a seat."_

Harry had always been gifted with the ability to resist the Imperius Curse. But whatever this was, it was not that. While Harry's mind fought to stand still, fought to resist, his body complied without any effort, taking the chair in front of him. For some reason, he set his wand on the table in front of him, making it impossible to defend himself.

" _Good, good. I'm glad to see that we can be civil."_

"What are you?"

" _Well, you have at least noticed that I'm not exactly human. I'll give you credit for that,"_ the man said. " _I want to assure you that you are in no immediate danger."_

"Says the man who has me frozen in this chair."

" _Would it matter if you could defend yourself? You've seen the things I am capable of. Do you honestly think that a wand is going to protect you from me?"_

Harry knew the answer to that question, although he refused to acknowledge that answer.

" _Now, you need to know that you and your family are safe for the time being. I do intend to kill you, but not for quite some time."_

"Oh, well that's good to know," Harry scoffed.

The man stood up and walked towards Harry, who suddenly felt a strange sensation in his mind. It felt like Legilimency but somehow different. Snape had one said that a person couldn't simply read a person's thoughts but that's exactly how this felt. Memories, old and new, flooded Harry's mind, making it difficult to concentrate on the fact that the monster was now sitting just across the corner of the table from him.

" _I've been trying to figure this out for weeks now,"_ the man said as he rifled through years of Harry's memories in just a few moments. " _What is it about you that makes you so special?"_

"Why do you care?" Harry said, straining against the feeling of someone walking through his mind.

" _Because I need to understand, Harry. Before I take these pathetic lives, I do to them what I'm doing to you right now. I take a walk through their memories, show them all of the horrible things in their lives, splashing in a few happy memories to flavor the foul ones appropriately. You'd be surprised just how tasty a few terrible memories can be when you add in some hope."_

"You're a monster," Harry growled, doing everything he could to kill the man with his eyes.

" _I am, indeed. There is no doubt about that. In fact, it is what I was created to be. At least, that's how I remember it."_

"How you remember it? What the hell are you talking about?"

" _Well, Mr. Potter, when I became, what I am, I lost any memory of my life prior to that, but that is neither here nor there. What is most important is that when I first...shall we say, woke up...I knew that I needed to feed. Thankfully, there was someone there for me. When I fed on their memories, I floated back to a day almost ten years ago. There was a castle on fire, giants roaming through massive holes in the walls. The person whose memories I was wondering through lay on the ground, their wand at their side, as a man in a black mask approached them."_

" _Suddenly, a man, a boy more or less, in glasses with a lightning scar on his forehead stepped in front of him, cursing the man in the mask. Then, he turned around and picked my target off the ground, telling him to regroup with the others."_

" _The memory then flashed forward several hours later. Now, that same boy with the lightning scar stood and faced off against the visage of living death, a skeleton with skin. No one could hear what the other said but it was clear that they were well acquainted. Eventually, the living dead fired a Killer at the boy, who stupidly decided to Disarm his opponent."_

" _But instead of witnessing the death of the boy, something miraculous happened. The Killer rebounded and struck the skeleton, killing him where he stood. This memory, this image, was the happiest memory in his life and he attributed that memory to you. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, The Man Who Won."_

" _I watched that memory again and again. You did nothing of any real importance. You survived. I dug deeper and deeper into this memory and eventually heard the words that you said to one another. I heard about Horcruxes and sacrificial love. I learned about the history of Lord Voldemort and the boy he had tried to murder in his crib sixteen years earlier."_

" _I couldn't understand it. This person had a partner, a family. Still, the happiest memory in their life was this one? I dug further into their memories, driving my prey into madness as I went, searching for more, something to explain who you were. Do you know what I found? I found nothing, Mr. Potter. The only interaction this person ever had with you was the moment when you saved their life from that Death Eater and then the duel with Tom Marvolo Riddle."_

" _I couldn't believe that to be true. How could that be possible that a single memory had generated such a powerful attachment to a person that they had never met? So, I decided that I would learn more about you. Even with the bare amount of power that I was able to drain my first victim, I was able to take physical form. I spent hours reading about you and your companions. I learned about Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, the other two parts of the so-called Golden Trio. I learned about Ginny and Luna and so many others. Still, that did not explain why a person that never met you would consider their happiest memory the day you saved their life."_

" _But I did know that you were going to be my prime target. I learned more about your history since the end of the war. How you became a wizard of the highest degree, one that was highly respected, a decorated soldier, and the pinnacle of all that is good in the world. But your history is clouded with darkness, the perfect combination of despair and hope. It just needs to be primed a bit."_

"What the fucking hell are you talking about?" Harry finally growled, tired of listening to this monster talk.

" _You are my final target, Harry Potter. With the sheer magical power you possess, I could retake my complete form, one that I was stripped of many generations ago. Even if I drained you of your life and your magic today, I would become more powerful than any wizard on this earth. But why stop at that? There is more pain to induce, more dread to invoke and that is exactly what I plan to do."_

" _The first few targets were bait, a pattern that I hoped you would catch onto so that I could meet you. Not surprisingly, each of them had memories of you, even if it was just a passing glance in a hallway at work or seeing you at the front of a group of people. To you, these people were nothing. But to them? You were a god, like me. You who defeated Voldemort. You who defeated Death, twice. They worship you, watch you from afar and beg to be close to you."_

" _The only problem, Harry Potter, is that you are not a god like me. You are a false idol, a child propped up by the defeat of a fool who thought far too highly of himself. I will be the one to show them all just how far you can fall."_

" _You can put any number of Aurors in between you and your family, Harry Potter. It will not stop me. One by one, I will hunt them down, torture them, both physically and mentally, and then drain their life force and their magic, adding it to mine. One by one by one by one, I will take them from you, flooding your mind with rage and despair. I'll take those closest to you last, the final bit of preparation needed to get you ready. Then, when that time comes, I will break your mind open and I will show you everything and everyone that you have loved and all that you have lost. Then, and only then, will you be ready. The marinade will be complete and when I take your life, you will aid me in becoming the single most powerful entity this world has ever seen. Once I have taken you, I will be whole once more."_

As the being spoke, Harry could feel every single memory he had ever had being pulled to the front of his mind. Every death, every kiss, all of it brought forward to play on the movie screen that it seemed to have brought up his mind. All the while, Harry had to listen while this seemingly normal man explained to Harry that he was some kind of supernatural being, something more than just a man, all the while he rifled through every thought Harry had ever had.

"What are you?" Harry asked, finding it incredibly hard to focus on anything.

" _I am the very nature of magic personified. As for what you can call me, I have no name. In my time, I was simply known as Legion."_

Then, without even so much as a wave of his hand, Legion, as it called itself, was gone, leaving Harry, tired and sweating, alone in the kitchen he had once called his own. For nearly an hour, Harry sat there, trying desperately to put the pieces of his mind back in order. Over the last decade, Harry had worked diligently to learn some basic Occlumency skills. While he would never be a gifted Occlumens, he could organize his mind in such a way to make it difficult for someone to break in.

Using the exercises he had learned, Harry quieted his mind, shutting away the most painful memories that threatened to burst forward and overwhelm him. It wasn't as if these memories didn't affect Harry any longer. It was more like being able to walk down a hallway with glass cages on either side. He could observe these memories safely, only occasionally opening these windows to allow himself to feel the sorrow that had once threatened to take over his life.

Now, that hallway had been trashed, each case smashed to pieces, these dark memories loose in the metaphorical zoo in his mind.

Still, Harry found himself able to focus and restore order in his mind through meditation. When Harry finally finished, he stood, his cane in one hand and his wand in the other, scanning the wards of the house. Not a single one of them had been touched. There were no traces that they had been affected, altered, removed, or handled in any way. Somehow, Legion had managed to Apparate inside this house.

And if he could break into this house, then there was no place on Earth that was safe. In just one day, Harry's world as he had known it had come crashing down around him. When Harry had awoken that morning, he had thought he was safe. He thought his friends and family were safe.

Now, he learned that they had never been in more danger in their entire lives and there was absolutely nothing that he could do about it. Harry's cane clattered as it fell to the floor, followed by its owner who collapsed to his knees, sobbing into his hands. Never before had Harry Potter felt more defeated. Never before had he felt more hopeless.

Legion was coming for him and Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Man Who Won, had no clue how to stop it.


	10. Legends, Myths, Tales, and Lore

Harry stumbled down the sidewalk, a bottle of...something in his hand. To be honest, he couldn't remember what the hell he was drinking anymore. Not after the...honestly, Harry couldn't tell you how much he had to drink that night. He couldn't tell you much of anything. The only things that remained on his mind was a sincere desire to remove everything from his mind and _that fucking smile._ No matter how much liquor Harry poured into his system, that fucking smile would not go away.

When Harry reached the front steps of Hermione's home, he was glad to see that her protection was still there, Disillusioned but certainly present. Even most sober wizards wouldn't have been able to tell they were there. But even if Harry was drunk as a skunk, he was still a better Auror than most.

Ignoring the guard, Harry climbed the stairs to her house until there were suddenly two Aurors standing in his way, both of them terrified to be standing between the legendary Harry Potter and his intended target.

"Sir, we can't let you in there," one of the Rookies said, his voice trembling slightly.

"And...why not?" Harry said, finding it terribly difficult to put words together.

"Miss Granger is under a protective order, sir. No one in or out."

"Are you...fucking blind?" Harry growled as he stumbled towards the railing. "Do you know who wrote that protective order?"

"You did, sir," the other Auror replied. "But the order states that the person in question might be a Metamorphmagus and therefore, no one should be allowed in, not even you!"

"Did I honestly write that?"

Almost immediately, Harry had a piece of parchment thrown in his face, not that it did him any good. Harry's vision was bad anyway and his alcohol-induced state meant that it was even worse than usual.

"Get that out of my fucking face!" Harry growled. "Now, you listen to me. You're both going to step out of my way. If you don't, I'll see to it that you both end up on Azkaban duty for the rest of your careers. Now, move!"

Neither of them budged an inch.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you," Harry murmured as he drew his wand. Even plastered drunk, Harry was quicker and more accurate than either of those Aurors could have ever dreamed of being. Within a second, both of them had been gently tossed over the railing and into the bushes next to them. Neither of them would take any lasting damage and they were out of his way.

Harry walked up and withdrew the key for Hermione's house from his pocket, letting himself into the house.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted the moment he was inside the door. "Hermione! We need to talk!"

In just a few seconds, the entrance hall of Hermione's house was suddenly full of people. Hermione, who had clearly been asleep, came racing down the stairs, a look of fury in her eyes. At the same time, the two Aurors had recovered and followed Harry through the front door, each of them gently taking Harry by the arm.

"Let go of him," Hermione replied calmly, although she was clearly frustrated by the whole situation. "Where did we go after Godric's Hollow?"

"The Forest of Dean," Harry answered confidently, relaying one of the only pieces of information about the Horcrux hunt that had never gotten out.

"It's him. You may go," Hermione said to the Aurors. Both of them clearly looked uncomfortable but considering that she was definitely their boss, neither protested too much and returned to their post outside. That left an extremely pissed off Hermione Granger with an incredibly drunk Harry Potter.

"What in the hell is going on?" Hermione barked. "Because I have to be up for work in two hours so if there isn't an exceptionally good explanation for why you're pissed in my house at four in the morning, then I'll put you in the Permanent Ward at St. Mungo's!"

No one had ever accused Hermione Granger of being a relaxed person.

"Well, I was going to come over earlier, but I didn't know how to tell you what I needed to tell you. So, I had a drink."

"A drink? How about several?"

"Oh no, I think even that's underselling it," Harry said. "Point is, I have bad news and I needed to be drunk to tell you."

"And that is?"

"Well, the monster is hunting me and he's going to kill everyone I love before he kills me. Named Legion for kind of obvious reasons when you think about it and he broke through the wards at Grimmauld Place without touching them. Oh, that and he took control of my body and forced me to sit down without using his wand."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Legion, Hermione! He's coming for you and everyone else and we're all fucked!"

That's when the alcohol in Harry's system finally hit him. As the last word erupted from his mouth, the booze plus the events of the day seemed to catch up with him all at once. He thought he heard Hermione say something to him but that was the last thing he remembered before everything went dark.

When he awoke, the sun was shining in the front window onto Harry's face, immediately giving him a massive headache. Harry grumbled to himself as he suddenly saw a cup of tea being shoved into his face.

"I should let you suffer for the shit that you pulled," Hermione said, a strange expression on her face that was some mix of anger and amusement.

"What shit?" Harry said as he downed the scalding liquid, not at all concerned with the pain that he felt as it went down.

"You can't tell me that you don't remember any of last night."

Unfortunately, Harry did remember it. All of it.

"Do you want to tell me what you were babbling about before you passed out in the front room?"

Quickly, Harry relayed the main beats of Legion's appearance in his old house, along with what he had told Harry. When Harry was finished, Hermione wouldn't seem to meet his eye, not a great sign.

"Hermione?"

"Are you sure that you started drinking after this happened?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Harry said, sitting up abruptly despite the sudden swimming sensation he felt in his head.

"I know that things have been rough recently with your caseload and then the promotion. I agree that whatever is hunting down these people is powerful."

"But?"

"But this is too much," Hermione admitted. "What you are describing simply isn't possible. The way he talks, it's like he's a thousand years old. And the powers that he has break every rule of magic that we know to be true. They are the foundation of how we understand magic and you're telling me that all of them are wrong?"

"I'm telling you what I saw, Hermione, with my own eyes. I'm telling what he did to me. I fought back as hard as I could and it _didn't matter_."

"But that just doesn't make any sense, does it?" Hermione replied. "There's no one out there who can resist the Imperius Curse as well as you can. How did he make you move then?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "I can't explain any of it and I know that you can't either and I know that makes you uncomfortable-"

"I think you need to take a couple of days to get yourself sorted out," Hermione said, cutting Harry off. "Take a couple of days away from the office to let your body heal from the stress of the last couple of days."

"Hermione, that's not-"

"Harry, I wasn't asking," Hermione replied. "I don't want to do this but whether you're right or wrong doesn't matter. You came here drunker than I've ever seen you before. You used your wand on two Aurors in order to get in here."

"I know. If you had seen what I did, you would be drinking, too. And those Aurors will be fine. You avoided the point that I was trying to make. I know that uncertainty is something that you aren't particularly comfortable with.

"What makes me uncomfortable is the fact that you seem to have just accepted this hallucination as fact? Did you ever think that he just got in your head? Made you see what he wanted you to see?"

"He did get into my head, Hermione. That's the problem."

"And did you ever think that maybe you never really moved? Maybe he's just an incredibly powerful Legilimens. Maybe he just made you see a scene where he moved you around the room? That could be why it didn't feel like the Imperius Curse, it never really happened in the first place."

"I know the difference between what goes on in my mind and what's reality."

"Are you sure? That wasn't always the case. Do you remember fifth year?"

Harry could tell that Hermione regretted saying those words the moment that they left her mouth. Immediately, he saw regret but at the moment, Harry found that he didn't care.

"Do I remember having my mind taken over by the world's darkest wizard? Is that what you're saying, Hermione?"

"Harry, I don't-"

"Do I remember being manipulated into going to the Ministry, a decision that ended up with my godfather dying in the Ministry? Do I remember that? Of course I fucking remember that!" Harry bellowed, a glass on the far side of the room shattering as a wave of pent-up magic billowed from Harry.

"I get it. I'm drunk. I know what that looks like. I could understand you being upset for me showing up like this. But do you honestly think that I would make something like this up?"

"I…"

Harry knew that she was upset with herself. He could see it on her face. But in this particular moment, Harry needed her to know how important this was.

"He threatened all of you, Hermione. You know how I am. If he had simply come after me, I would have been fine. But he threatened to take those that I love and he said that he would take those that are closest last. He showed me your face as he said it, Hermione."

"Harry…"

"You don't understand," Harry said harshly. "How could you understand? That...whatever it is has never been inside your head. No one has ever been in your head. You don't have any idea what it's like to have someone root through your mind like they were flipping through the pages of your life."

Rather than answer him, Hermione sat silently and stared at him. Even in his drunken state, Harry knew that he was being a bit belligerent. But then that horrible smile flashed in front of his eyes and the image of Hermione that Legion had pulled out of the recesses of Harry's mind, the image of Harry holding Hermione up as he looked at the newly dug grave in front of him, the beach and the crashing waves just behind them. Hermione looked weak, broken. It was how Legion wanted him to see her. In moments, it had learned who was the most important person in the world to Harry and it wanted Harry to see her as it saw her: defeated. The threat was clear, its implication unwavering. Legion would do this to her the same way he would do it to everyone else that he loved.

"I'm going. I think I will take those days off, too."

Hermione attempted to object, clearly wanting to apologize but Harry was in no mood for that at the moment. Harry turned in place, Apparating away from Hermione's house and back to the front step of Grimmauld Place. Harry marched through the door and immediately collapsed to the floor the moment the door clicked behind him.

Of all the people in the world, Harry had simply assumed that Hermione would take him at his word. He never for a moment wondered whether she would doubt him, not about something as important as this anyway. Yet, she had. She had questioned his sanity, his awareness of the world. Even when Riddle had been projecting images into his mind, Harry had always been acutely aware of the fact that they were just that: projections. Now, she was saying that Legion was projecting images into Harry's mind that were so perfect that Harry was no longer aware whether they were real or not.

As much as Harry hated to admit it, he supposed that was possible, especially considering the amount of power that he had already seen Legion display. But everything about his meeting with Legion had felt real. He had felt his body move across the room and sit at the table, completely out of his control. If that wasn't true, then what was?

Despite the fact that he was incredibly angry with her, Harry did end up taking her advice (or had it been an order). Harry sat in the Safe House for two days, sobering up. He also took that time to fight back against the mental image of Legion that he had formed in his head. Certainly, Harry had faced difficult tasks before. This one was different and deadlier but Harry was not alone in this. He would make Hermione see what exactly they were up against and then the two of them would figure out a way, some way, to take this thing down.

Two days later, freshly shaven and sober, Harry walked into the Ministry of Magic and then down the hall towards his office. Harry's emergency absence had clearly been noted as almost everyone seemed to peek their heads out of their office doors to catch a glimpse of him as he walked by. Doing his best to remain positive, Harry waved gently and offered cursory greetings to those that passed him in the hallway as he made his way through the bullpen towards his office.

The greatest surprise of Harry's morning came when he got to his office and saw Hermione waiting for him. She had a look that fell somewhere between concern and guilt, although Harry couldn't decide which way it lean more.

"Harry, I-"

"Inside," Harry said as he opened the door for her. Once both he and Hermione were inside his office, Harry waved his wand, turning the glass wall opaque so that they could have a chat without anyone looking in on them.

"Harry, I-"

"Sit down," Harry said, pointing to the chair across from his desk. Harry took the chair behind his desk as Hermione took hers. "Now, before you say anything, I have something I want to say."

"Alright," Hermione replied curiously.

"I know that my behavior the other night was less than professional. I know that I was not necessarily behaving in a way that the Head Auror should behave. I understand that and I will talk to those Aurors later today."

"But?"

"But as my friend, Hermione, I have to say I'm disappointed. I know what I saw and I know what I experienced. You know better than anyone that I take my...mental wellbeing seriously, especially since Sirius, and you used that against me."

"I know I did and I'm sorry. I really am," Hermione replied. "I just...I couldn't grapple with what you were saying. Even after having thought about it for a couple of days, it still seems insane."

"I'm well aware that it seems insane. But I know what I saw and I need you above everyone else to believe me."

Hermione hesitated for just a second before nodding her head. "I do believe you, Harry. I know that you would never risk our safety. It's why I should have believed you in the first place. It's just terrifying to think that something like that is hunting us down."

"It is but that's why the security. I'll do everything I possibly can to make sure that you're safe."

"Well, I appreciate that but I'm not the only one that needs to be kept safe."

"But you are the most important," Harry admitted. Almost immediately, Harry wished that he could have taken those words back. Not because they weren't true, far from it. But because it made it look as if Harry was more concerned about Hermione than anyone else, something that she would not take well.

Thankfully, she brushed it off rather than chastise Harry for his single-mindedness.

"Well, if we're going to defeat this thing, we need to know a bit more about it."

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Harry quickly made his way to the door where he suddenly found himself face to face with his oldest nemesis, Draco Malfoy. Like every other Death Eater that was captured after the war, Draco, along with both of his parents, were tried for treason and crimes against the state, both for their support of Riddle and for Draco's role in Dumbledore's death.

Before their sentencing, Harry was asked to speak on behalf of the Malfoys, just like he had been with every other Death Eater. At that moment, Harry had a choice. He could have thrown them all to the wolves and certainly, if Harry had asked, they would have been given a life sentence in Azkaban. Even after the changes that Kingsley made to the island prison, a life sentence there was about the worst hell anyone could imagine.

Lucius Malfoy would know. He was serving the first of three life sentences as a part of his role in years of serving Riddle rather than the Ministry. On the other hand, Narcissa had only been sentenced to eight years and Draco to five, largely because of Harry's words on their behalf. Harry had told the Wizengamot about Draco's refusal to name Harry at Malfoy Manor and Narcissa's assistance in the Forbidden Forest. Harry had still argued that they needed to serve time for the crimes but leniency should be given.

The Malfoys had been among the last Death Eaters captured, nearly three full years after the war had ended. As a result, Narcissa would remain behind bars for just about another year.

Draco, on the other hand, had been released two years earlier to the custody of the Aurors. For one year, he had lived in a Safe House, both for his protection and to ensure that he would not attempt to return to his life as a Death Eater. During this time, Draco had taken a job with the Department of International Magical Cooperation, working with other Ministries to locate Dark wizards around the world.

He had been in that job for a year when Kingsley had recommended him for a position as a researcher with the Department of Mysteries. No one knew exactly why Kingsley recommended Malfoy for the position and since he was now an Unspeakable, no one knew what Malfoy worked on for any clues.

"Malfoy."

"Auror Potter, I need to speak with you," Malfoy replied. After just ten years, his hair had already started to thin in the front, which made him look much older than most of the others his age. Thankfully, he had grown a thin white beard that outlined his face which kept him from looking completely ancient.

"Really? About what?"

"Legion."

Immediately, Hermione stood, shocked at the fact that Draco Malfoy, of all people, seemed to know about their problem.

"Inside. Now," Hermione barked, dragging the former Death Eater inside before shutting the door behind him. "Talk."

"Sit, then talk," Harry ordered, pointing to the chair next to Hermione's. Quickly, Malfoy did as he was told.

"I shouldn't tell you any of this but I think we're going to have bigger problems soon," Malfoy said, his voice soft and his words clipped. "As you both know, I work in the Department of Mysteries. Specifically, I work in the room that you know as The Death Chamber."

Harry couldn't help it. The image of The Veil immediately leapt forward, the picture of Sirius falling back through the Veil repeating over and over again.

"However, the Death Chamber is not at all what it's called. We let people think that so that they wouldn't know what we were actually doing there. You see, it's not called the Death Chamber. It's called Tartarus."

"Tartarus? Like the Greek prison of the Gods?" Hermione asked.

"Exactly. You see, roughly two thousand years ago, magic wasn't quite like we know it today. It was rougher, less refined. Most people didn't use wands but simply channeled magic through their bodies. It meant that magic was more dangerous because no one could control it. Over time, we developed wands, which gave us more control but eventually led to weaker forms of magic."

"What does this have to do with Legion?" Harry growled.

"I'm getting there," Malfoy snapped. "During this time, magic was far more often channeled using ritualistic magic that had been passed down through generations. Magic like this is more permanent or at the very least, more difficult to reverse. It was during this time that people learned to channel magic from one person to another, quite literally draining a person of their magic."

"Worldwide, there were beings of great power that were worshipped as something like deities. These beings possessed powers well beyond that of any regular wizard having been given their enhanced abilities from an excess of magic itself. One of these such beings was found here in England, a being known to the secrets of history as Legion. We don't know why that name was chosen, although there are theories that he might have been some kind of combined being, two become one, that sort of thing."

"But we do know what Legion could do. Change shape at will, dominate the minds of lesser wizards. It could even drain people of their magic. This is how it sustained itself for, as far as we can tell, hundreds of years, literally feeding on the magic of others to keep itself alive. Over time, it became obsessed with the magic and nature of people like Merlin or King Arthur, fair minded people who sought to do great things in the world."

"But Merlin was alive only a thousand years ago. How is that possible?" Hermione asked.

"As I said, it used the magic of others to keep itself alive well beyond the typical confines of human life."

"Do you think it was human at one point?" Harry asked.

"Honestly, we have no idea. But it is likely, considering it usually takes the form of humans. Perhaps there's something more comfortable about that form than others. In any case, its fascination with people like Merlin turned into jealousy and then, outright obsession. It was a being of terrible power and yet there were men, normal men, who were being worshipped as he was. So, Legion became obsessed with taking their power for its own, stripping them of what made them powerful. It would stalk its prey, killing those near its target, sometimes even killing people who bore a passing resemblance to the target or their loved ones, simply to toy with them."

Immediately, Harry and Hermione locked eyes. This was certainly what was going on now with Legion killing people who seemed to look or share characteristics with Harry's loved ones.

"Eventually, Legion would kill those that stood between Legion and its prey, draining their magic and becoming more powerful with each murder. It seemed to feed on the horror and pain and depression of their target while draining the magic of their victims by causing horrible amounts of pain."

"For nearly a thousand years, this was his pattern, hiding in the shadows to avoid detection, becoming more legend than anything else. Eventually, a group of wizards led by Galahad Peverell banded together to create a device, a portal, that would trap Legion in a place without magic or time, a world between worlds. They hadn't discovered a way to destroy Legion but they could trap it. For Legion, this would be a place between life and death, if Legion could truly die at all. So, they created the Arch."

"The Veil?" Harry asked.

"Again, the Department of Mysteries allowed us to use that name because it meant that no one was actually looking too closely at what was going on," Malfoy replied. "In truth, all the texts we have refer to it as The Arch, a creation of Galahad Peverell and his three sons. The Peverells tricked Legion into attacking them at their chosen site. The battle between Legion and the Peverells lasted for days. Eventually, Galahad Peverell sacrificed himself, tackling Legion and taking both of them through the Arch. As far as we know, Galahad Peverell was killed once he hit the Arch, his body unable to exist in a place without magic."

"But we know that Legion survived. For almost a thousand years, Legion could be heard whispering through the Arch, mimicking the voices of the dead. Legion was desperate to escape and to that end, he was attempting to use those voices to get someone to break him out. Thankfully, the rumors surrounding the Arch meant that almost everyone avoided Tartarus if at all possible. Those that didn't mistook the voices as those of a friend and walked into the Arch, sharing the same fate as Galahad Peverell."

And the same fate as Sirius Black, Harry thought to himself.

"All that was true until roughly two months ago. An Unspeakable had chosen The Arch as his field of study. Every day for almost six years, he had been inside Tartarus, studying the runes around the edge of the Arch. Due to the nature of The Arch, everyone who worked on it had to take regular medical checks to ensure that their sanity wasn't being compromised."

"Somehow, this Unspeakable showed no exterior signs of impairment. But over time, the voices of the Arch got to him and twisted his mind. Eventually, he was able to truly understand the voices and followed their instructions, unlocking the Arch. Having spent a thousand years inside a space of nothingness had reduced Legion to nothing more than a spectre, incapable of physically manipulating anything but still capable of great mental manipulation."

"The moment the Arch opened, Legion came through, a great shadow of darkness, and tore into the mind of the man who set him free. In a moment, Legion absorbed everything and I'm certain that it watched all of the man's memories as well."

"What makes you say that?" Hermione asked.

"Because the only words out of Legion's mouth were Harry Potter, The Man Who Lived," Malfoy replied. "Potter, you would be the perfect target for Legion in this era. A man of great integrity but limited magical power, in his view, who is worshipped by thousands for something that he openly admits he didn't do. If it can kill those around you and drain their magic, then it'll kill you. If that happens, it will likely have regained much of its former strength and if that happens, then I can't see anyway to stop it."

This was a lot of information to swallow all at once. But as Harry leaned back in his chair, he could only think one thing.

"How in the hell do you know all of this?" Harry asked.

"Well, most of this information is kept in the archives, a separate section of the Department of Mysteries where we keep information that is more sensitive than most."

"I don't mean that," Harry replied. "How did you hear that it named me as its target? How did you see it kill that man and drain his magic?"

At first, it didn't appear that Malfoy was going to answer. Eventually, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, golden hourglass. There was no question in Harry's mind what it was.

"I thought we destroyed all of those," Hermione said.

"At the time, that was true. But the nature of the Department of Mysteries means that we are more likely to tinker with specific forms of magic that most would consider to be unnatural. However, we did take into consideration that even if we were to continue experimenting with time, a much more controlled effort would be needed. Only three Time Turners were built, all of them locked away for use only in extreme circumstances. When we realized what happened, I was given one of these Time Turners and sent back to the previous day."

"I stood in the corner of Tartarus, hidden under a series of powerful Disillusionment Charms. I watched as the Unspeakable in question broke the runes on the Arch, releasing a black cloud of pure magical energy, which sortly formed the vague shape of a man. Then, I watched that shape engulfed the Unspeakable. The Unspeakable screamed in horror and in pain, shouting out names and other events from his past as Legion tore through his mind. When Legion was finished with him, the Unspeakable looked as if all of the life had been drained from his body. Legion looked like a man, albeit one who had not quite been fully finished, his face blurry and pale."

"But this happened months ago. You said it yourself. You said that he had escaped over two months ago, right?" Hermione asked.

"That is correct."

"Then how are we just now hearing about this?" Harry asked.

"Because I was ordered by my superior to keep quiet."

There was no answer that Malfoy could have given Harry that would have made him angrier. To hear that this monster had been on the loose for two months had been bad enough. But to know that someone had known about this and no one had deemed it prudent to inform him, that burned Harry down to his core.

Harry stood, his hands shaking, as he crossed the room and opened the door, nearly tearing the door handle off as he yanked the door.

"Harry, where are you going?"

"The Department of Mysteries," Harry growled as he marched down the bullpen, Malfoy and Hermione on his heels. He could hear both of them behind him. They were both likely encouraging Harry to stop and think about what he was doing, but Harry would not be stopped. He skipped the lift and raced down the stairs to the bottom floor and the entrance of the Department of Mysteries.

It was only the moment when Harry reached the door that he stopped in place. It had been over ten years since he had been here in person. In his dreams, Harry still made regular visits to the area of the Department of Mysteries he now knew was called Tartarus. Now, for the first time since the death of his godfather, he would walk back through these doors in his waking hours.

Then, the faces of those that Legion had already killed flashed before his eyes and Harry pushed on, knowing that he needed to stop this monster at all costs. Harry opened the door and walked directly into the Entrance Chamber, twelve unmarked doors surrounding him.

"Which one?" Harry barked at Malfoy.

"This way," Malfoy responded, waving his wand at a door at Harry's right. On command, the door opened and Harry and Hermione followed Malfoy as they walked directly into the Tartarus Chamber. Immediately, Harry noticed two things. While the room hadn't changed much, the arch in the center clearly had. Gone was the aetherial curtain that had blown in its center and no matter how close Harry got to the arch, no voices seemed to come out. People were even walking through it without any concern.

That was the second thing that Harry noticed. Unlike the last time Harry had been here in the dead of night, the chamber was not empty. In fact, there were at least a dozen people milling about, clearly researching the Arch in some way, shape, or form. Malfoy led Harry and Hermione up to an elderly man that stood at the base of the dais. He wore black horn-rimmed glasses and an all-black robe with a silver badge with a large letter M on it, the typical symbol for the Ministry of Magic and the only sign that anyone down here worked for the Ministry. Even in the dim lighting of the room, there was a glare reflecting off his pristine, bald head.

"Sir, this is-" Malfoy started before he was immediately cut off by the shrill-looking man.

"I know who they are, Draco," he snapped before turning to Harry and Hermione. "You may have been heroes of the war, but that gives you no right to be down here."

"Who are you?" Harry asked.

"That information is classified."

"Excuse me?" Harry barked.

"My identity as Head of the Department of Mysteries is classified."

"His name is Orion Welles," Hermione said suddenly. "He's been the head of the Department of Mysteries for the last five years. Now, Mr. Welles, I need you to clear the room of everyone but yourself and Mr. Malfoy."

"Miss Granger, congratulations on your appointment. However, you must know that the Department of Mysteries doesn't fall under the jurisdiction of the-"

"I don't care about jurisdiction at the moment," Harry growled, getting to within inches of Welles' face. "Get them out now or I'll drag you down to the holding cells myself for criminal negligence."

Welles appeared to be the kind of man who was not easily intimidated. It was the kind of thing that Harry usually appreciated in a person. But Harry was in no mood to mess around and Welles could clearly see that.

"Everyone out," Welles said, his voice barely above normal speaking levels. Immediately, everyone stopped what they were doing and headed to the doors and within just a few seconds, the four of them were alone.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Potter?" Welles asked, clearly frustrated with this shakedown.

"You can tell me about Legion."

Immediately, Welles turned to Malfoy, fury in his eyes.

"You told them?"

"We knew enough already," Harry growled. "He just filled us in on some important details. Like the fact that Legion escaped from your custody two months ago and you never bothered to mention it to anyone."

"I will not have you questioning my decision making or my authority to make those decisions."

"Why keep something like that a secret?" Hermione asked. "People were dying."

"Everything down here is a secret, Ms. Granger," Welles replied. "We weren't going to tell anyone until we were certain what Legion was going to do. There was a distinct possibility that he would simply lose interest in you and move on."

"So as long as he wasn't killing me, you had no interest in protecting the public from a two thousand year old magical vampire killing machine?"

"Protecting the public isn't my job, Mr. Potter. It's yours."

"Right."

That's when Harry's right hand suddenly and swiftly made contact with the underside of Welles' jaw, knocking him clean off his feet in a single motion. As Welles rolled on the floor, Harry drew his wand and with a quick wave, bound Welles' hands and feet together.

"I don't care what you think about this, Welles. But you endangered the lives of thousands, maybe millions of people with your actions. I am placing you under arrest for gross misconduct and criminal negligence."

"You can't do that."

Harry turned to Malfoy, Harry's wand still in his hand.

"Excuse me?"

"The Department of Mysteries has immunity from those kinds of crimes without a rather lengthy investigation. It's part of the Department's charter, which is older than the Ministry itself. You'll have to launch an official inquiry into his actions. If he's found negligent, then he'll be removed from his position and only then can you try him for his crimes."

"Is this true?" Harry asked, turning to Hermione.

"As insane as it sounds, he is right," Hermione admitted. "I'll submit the inquiry paperwork later today but it will be weeks before we can get around to it, especially with Legion on the loose."

Merlin, Harry hated bureaucracy.

"Fine," Harry said as he kneeled down next to Welles' face. "You're releasing Malfoy into my employ until I capture Legion."

"I'm what?"

Harry dropped a knee into the center of Welles' back, the pressure expelling all the air from Welles' lungs.

"Fine! Fine!" Welles barked as he tried to catch his breath.

"And you are giving me and my team of Aurors complete access to the Department of Mysteries for as long as I see fit?"

"Of course!" Welles replied, clearly afraid of what further abuse Harry would bring down upon him.

"Good. I'll be back to arrest you just as soon as I've cleaned up your mess," Harry said as he stood. Malfoy stared at him, his mouth agape.

"You know more about this than anyone else and you were clearly the only one that had the brains to talk to me about it."

"But, what about-"

"What about what?" Harry asked.

"What about...Merlin, what about everything?" Malfoy asked.

"Well, we're just going to have to work around that, aren't we?" Harry said as he made to march out of the room. "I'll meet you at Malfoy Manor tomorrow."

"Why there?"

"Because I said so."

"Harry, are you just going to leave him tied up on the floor?" Hermione asked as she gestured to where Welles lay on the floor, prone, his hands tied behind his back and his feet tied to them.

"Yes."


	11. Mirages

Hours later, Harry and Hermione were in the kitchen of Safe House Four with the little information that Malfoy was able to collect on Legion spread across the dining table. Despite the fact that the Ministry had been researching Legion, The Arch and The Tartarus Chamber for nearly a thousand years, there was barely any information to go on. There was a collection of files that pointed to Legion potentially having originated somewhere on the continent while another file suggested that there was the possibility that he was a time traveler from a distant future where humanity had merged with magic itself.

Almost none of the information was going to be helpful beyond getting an understanding of what the Department of Mysteries actually believed Legion was.

"This is a nightmare," Hermione muttered as she threw another file onto the dozens she had already read. "Nine hundred years of research and they have nothing? I know that they don't actually like answers to the questions they ask down there but this is ridiculous."

"The thing that blows my mind is that they had no contingencies in place as far as I can tell," Harry replied. "They knew almost nothing about the Arch itself or how it works. For hundreds of years, they kept an indestructible, possibly immortal being down in those dungeons and had almost no knowledge about what it was, how it came to be, or where it came from!"

In his frustration, Harry took the file in his hands and chucked it across the room, a shower of paper exploding against the wall where it hit. Unfortunately, the paper inside had been enchanted to automatically sort themselves if they ever got out of order. The file was already in perfect condition by the time it hit the ground.

Harry collapsed into the closest chair. They had been reading for hours and they knew almost nothing that could help them stop Legion. Harry knew that they shouldn't have been surprised. The Department of Mysteries didn't seek to study things for the sake of practical answers. They were concerned with the theoretical and the plausible, stretching the limits of magic to its extremes. Something like this underground prison cell would hold little interest to most of them.

"So how do these Safe Houses work?"

Harry looked across the room and noticed that Hermione had also put her files down, albeit in a slightly less aggravated fashion.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I thought the whole point of a Safe House was protection. But there's no one here but you and I."

"Well, there's this thing called magic, heard of it?" Harry replied. That was when Hermione decided it was her turn to throw a file, although it floated harmlessly over his head.

"Prat. You knew what I meant."

"I did," Harry admitted. "For awhile, the Aurors used to staff Safe Houses with Hit Wizards. But it was determined that it was easier to simply ward the places to the point of almost invisibility and then only give access to the person with the key."

"So the key grants you access? How did I get in then?"

"You happen to be the only Ministry official other than myself who is granted access simply based on your title. The Head of the DMLE can check in on any of the Safe Houses at any time. Hell, I think Amelia Bones was living in one when she was killed."

"If you already have permission to be here, why did you take the key?"

"Auror protocol states that the protectee must have possession of the key at all times while they are occupying the Safe House. There are Aurors assigned to monitor the keys around the clock. If something goes wrong, it has a second button that I can press that will immediately send Aurors to its location."

"Seems like a relatively foolproof system," Hermione replied, clearly impressed.

"For everything except for a one thousand-year-old Dark magic monster," Harry agreed. "Speaking of the devil, which it might just be, do we have any information here that can help us kill the damn thing?"

"None that I can find," Hermione said. "The only idea I've come up with is somehow putting it back in the Arch."

"But The Arch was broken when Legion escaped. You saw it. There's nothing that thing is going to do to contain Legion."

"So we fix it?" Hermione suggested. "I don't know the first thing about how that could be done but someone must know something."

"I suppose Malfoy is as good a place to start as any. I'll talk to him about it tomorrow."

Harry could immediately see that Hermione wanted to talk to Harry about his request for Malfoy to be released from the Department of Mysteries. At the moment, Harry had absolutely no interest in having that conversation and he quickly cut her off.

"Some other time, Hermione," Harry said curtly. "I know that there's a history there but right now, I'm worried about trying to capture a demon."

"Fair enough," Hermione replied as she stood. For a moment, she considered Harry, her face hard with concentration. Then, she stalked around the table towards Harry. She stopped for a moment just a foot or two in front of him, almost as if she was reconsidering whatever she had planned.

Then, she whipped her wand towards Harry's chair, which rotated away from the table, giving Hermione enough room to straddle him. Immediately, her lips were on his, her hands in his hair as his hands immediately sought the smooth skin of her back. For a moment, it was just the two of them, the world didn't matter and the fact that they had a monster chasing after them was completely forgotten.

This was the kind of thing that happened occasionally between the two of them, or at least it had ever since they had started their more physical relationship years earlier. While Harry had gotten better at expressing his feelings, Hermione had been forced into more diplomatic positions at work, which meant that sometimes, she just wanted an outlet for her more passionate feelings on the world around her.

In those moments, when a dinner date with Harry wasn't possible, she often did exactly what she had just done. Sometimes it ended with them fucking on the kitchen table, but more of than not, it ended exactly as it had tonight with each of them waiting for the other to make a move.

Harry wasn't an idiot. He knew that his feelings for Hermione had long since moved passed the "sister-like" relationship that he had professed of in the woods to Ron all those years ago, if that relationship had ever existed in the first place. Hermione wasn't the type to throw herself at just anyone. When Harry had been growing up, he had spent most of his time actively avoiding death. In those days, the aggressiveness of someone like Ginny Weasley was simply easier.

Did he love Hermione? Of course he did. She was the most important person in his entire world. He would never use those words in front of anyone else, but he knew they were true.

Did that mean that they were destined to be together? Not likely. The unfortunate nature of Harry and Hermione's lives meant that the moment their relationship became anything more than dinner and the occasional night together, they would be the most public couple in all of wizarding England, something that would make it nearly impossible for either of them to do their jobs. Harry, in particular, would almost assuredly have to quit his job if it ever came out that he and Hermione were dating, especially since Hermione had recently been appointed as his direct superior. Technically, any relationship like theirs should have been disclosed the moment that Hermione became Harry's boss. But that would have required telling Kingsley about it and there was no way that information wouldn't get out somehow, meaning that Ron would find out about their relationship, which would mean a lot of questions that neither of them wanted to answer.

All that didn't mean that Harry didn't occasionally wonder what that kind of relationship would be like. Still, he knew not to get too wrapped up in his imagination. Hermione had never shown any interest in anything more than a casual sexual relationship to go along with their friendship. One day, she would find someone who fit her exacting set of desires and on that day, Harry would gladly go back to just being Hermione's best friend, although he did have to admit that he had never had better sex than with Hermione.

Not even his one night stand with Padma Patil had been that good.

"Do you ever wonder what would happen if people knew about us?" Hermione asked suddenly, her forehead leaning against his, her breath warm against his lips. Apparently, great minds, especially ones that were as in sync as his and Hermione's, thought alike.

"Of course," Harry admitted before quickly adding, "It's all I thought about for awhile."

"Really?"

"Well, I had a rather large target on my back during those first couple years," Harry replied.

"That's true," Hermione admitted as she leaned forward, her lips grazing against Harry's ear as she spoke. "Not much has changed."

"Just whose painting the target," Harry replied as he slid his hands slowly down Hermione's sides, his hands resting at her hips as she slowly began rocking against him. Harry was between a rock and a (literal) hard place. He knew that Hermione had asked that question for a reason and he knew that it was worth talking about.

He also knew that he wanted to tear her clothes off, throw her in the shower and fuck her until she couldn't stand anymore.

Such was the dichotomy of Hermione Granger. She was brilliant and sexy and she knew it.

"Do you think that _it_ might use our relationship against you?" Hermione said, her voice hitching slightly as her pale skin began to flush. Immediately, Harry grabbed Hermione's waist, bringing her gyrations to a halt.

"What?"

"Nothing. I...shouldn't have said anything," Hermione replied.

"That's literally never been true, Hermione. What did you mean?"

Harry could tell that Hermione truly wished she hadn't said anything but at this point, Harry couldn't be bothered by that anymore.

"He saw your mind, Harry. You said he showed you everything. _Everything."_

How had he never considered that? How in all of the dozens of hours since his mind had been invaded by that monster had he never considered that while Legion had been taking a sprint down Memory Lane, it had seen every interaction Harry had ever had, including every interaction he had ever had with Hermione?

It had seen everything and it said that it wanted to cause Harry pain. Sort of killing people (which Harry knew was on its' to-do list eventually), exposing his relationship with Hermione would likely be high on its list of things to do, knowing the damage that it would cause.

"Ron…" Harry said, pushing Hermione off his lap as he scrambled to get out of his chair. He needed space and he needed a path to pace while he thought.

"Harry...there's nothing you can do about it now."

"I know there's nothing I can do about it now," Harry grumbled. "There's something I should have done years ago, but I didn't because I was a coward."

"Ron is very happy with Gabrielle," Hermione assured him. "I know that he took the end of our relationship hard but things are better now."

"Yes, they are. How quickly do you think that falls apart when an immortal magical being tells him that his relationship with the girl that he had fancied for years ended because she started fucking his best friend!"

"That's not how it happened! That's not what it was like!" Hermione fired back.

"Do you honestly think that Legion is going to be nice? Do you honestly think it's going to tell Ron that you were angry at him so you slept with me because I was nice to you when Ron wasn't? Because that's the best version of that story that it can tell, Hermione. The best version! The worst version is that we slept together and you broke up with Ron a week later. Then, it can also tell him that on the same night you broke up with Ron, you came to me and we slept together for the second time."

Tears streamed down Hermione's face and any thoughts of the searing kiss that Hermione had planted on Harry just a few moments earlier were gone. This was the guilt that they had lived with over eight years now. Both of them knew that they had been keeping a secret that should never have been kept. On that day, they should have told Ron what had happened.

Maybe Ron and Hermione would still be together?

Maybe Hermione would have gotten with Harry instead and they could have lived a proper relationship instead of the clandestine process they went through now?

But they hadn't. Together, they had lied to Ron. They had agreed that Ron would be better off not knowing that his two best friends in the whole world had betrayed him. At the time, they had said that it had only happened the first time because Hermione was upset.

And that it had only happened the second time because they were swept up in the physical chemistry of the first time, not to mention Hermione's mental state due to her breakup with Ron just a few hours earlier.

But the third time? They had no excuse the third time. Or the fourth. In truth, they were two people who were as close as any people could come and they liked having sex. At no point had either of them ever discussed dating the other. In fact, they had pointedly discussed what would happen to their "arrangement" _when_ the other person started dating.

"We have to tell him," Harry said firmly. "We have to tell him before Legion does something."

"How is this our main concern?" Hermione asked. "Legion's been out there killing people."

"Yes, but that was just its way of getting my attention. Now, it wants to hurt me. It already said as much. It wants to hurt me in as many ways as possible and it will use anything at its disposal to do so. This information? This will hurt."

"Do you want to tell everyone?" Hermione asked suddenly. "Do you want everyone to know that you've been sleeping with Hermione Granger for years? That you managed to do it behind everyone's back and no one was the wiser?"

Harry knew that Hermione was scared. That's why she was talking like this. While her words may have been cruel, the shake in her voice told him all he needed to know.

"You know that's not true," Harry replied. "Listen, you're right. Until we think this is something that Legion is going to use, it's not a real priority. People's lives are at stake. Your life is at stake."

"I know," Hermione said, her voice suddenly very small. "I forgot what that felt like. For years, I didn't ever think that I would stop feeling that fear and then, somehow, it just vanished, and now that it's back, it hurts more than ever because I thought that it was gone."

"You know that I won't let anything happen to you," Harry said. "Not that you need my help anyway."

"I might not need it but it's always welcome," Hermione said as she stepped towards Harry, wrapping her arms around him tight. For a moment, Harry simply held Hermione in his arms, content in the knowledge that, for the time being, she was alright.

Still, she had been right to worry about Legion. Why search Harry's mind if not for information to use? As far as Harry could tell, Legion had everything. Every moment of his life was now on file in that monster's mind, if that's even what you could call it.

At some point, Ron would learn the truth. So would everyone else. Until then, Harry knew that he didn't have time to fight every battle all at once.

That's the only way to guarantee that he would lose.

"I should go home," Hermione said. "We're clearly not getting any more work done here."

"No, we're not. Shower?" Harry said, only half joking. While Harry knew that neither he or Hermione were really in the mood, it would not be the first time that one of them used the other for stress relief.

"Not tonight," Hermione smirked before leaning up and kissing Harry gently on the lips. "I know that our relationship isn't exactly conventional-"

"Or a relationship," Harry smirked, using the line that Hermione often countered when they would talk about this.

"Or a relationship. But I am glad that I have you."

"I'm glad I have you, too, Hermione Granger," Harry said as Hermione broke away from him and began gathering her things. "Make sure to check-in with your guards when you get home."

"I will. Get some rest. You look like hell."

"Thanks," Harry said, dramatic feigning offense. "I'll see you in the morning."

Sleep that night came in starts and stops for Harry. By the time his alarms started ringing in the morning, Harry felt that he had hardly slept at all. Still, he knew that he needed to get up and get moving, despite the fact that his eyes barely wanted to open at all. After a quick shower, Harry made his way downstairs to the kitchen.

As he was working on frying up a pan of bacon, Harry suddenly felt a rush of cold air. Turning in place, Harry drew his wand, aiming it at the body sitting at the far end of the table. Once again, this was a new face. This time, it wore the look of a young man, at least a few years younger than Harry himself.

Still, that horrible, cruel smile was plastered on its face. That, in addition to the sudden chill in the air, told Harry all he needed to know.

"What do you want?" Harry said, shaking from the cold as he bravely held his wand out in front of him.

" _I want to talk, Harry Potter. I want to offer you a choice."_

"What choice?"

" _You see, I have selected my targets carefully. I spent a considerable amount of time sifting through your memories, identifying those closest to you. Here's what will happen: I will tell you the people that I plan on killing and you will be allowed to tell me what order they will be killed in."_

"Why in the hell would I do that!?" Harry roared, anger flaring through his veins. Suddenly, Legion raised a single finger and simply motioned towards Harry, which launched him back into the stove, the pan of hot bacon grease sliding down his back, causing Harry to scream in pain.

Legion stood, a cold, hard look in its eyes as it marched towards Harry, kneeling down next to Harry.

" _You'll do it because I know how you feel about those that you love, Harry Potter. You hate their suffering more than you hate your own. You would rather choose their order of death, knowing that you could select an order that would cause them the least amount of pain, than leave me to my own devices, knowing that my only goal will be to hurt them and, in turn, you."_

"Fuck you," Harry growled, spots appearing his vision as the pain threatened to overwhelm him. Suddenly, Legion took a hand and placed it on Harry's shoulder and in a second, the pain was gone. Harry looked over his shoulder and saw fresh skin already growing back where he had expected to see horrible burns.

Legion had healed him, a wound that would leave a scar with even the best Healer and the best potions had been rendered non-existent.

" _I wondered if you might take the more painful route, considering your steadfast refusal to give up in the past. I suppose for a mortal, it is a redeemable quality. For me, it is simply tiresome."_

"I don't care what you find tiresome," Harry said fiercely. "We will figure out some way to beat you."

" _You believe so? You believe that this is some sort of competition, do you?"_ Legion said, taunting Harry mercilessly. " _It is a competition that you cannot win but if you refuse to concede, then I will make sure to compete to the best of my abilities. You can certainly try to restore my cage in the Ministry of Magic but even if you managed to fix it, you'd have to be a fool to think I'd ever return willingly."_

" _But you'll try, I'm sure, which will just make it even more enjoyable when I take your loved ones from you. You'll fight and you'll fail, Harry Potter, and then as I kill everyone that you know and love, I will feed on their memories of you and the love that they hold for you. In their final moments, they'll know that their love for Harry Potter is what killed them."_

The hand on Harry's shoulder suddenly moved to Harry's head, the palm coming to rest against Harry's forehead.

" _This is the world as it will be."_

Harry's vision went white in an instant before being replaced by a sight that Harry never thought he would see again: Hogwarts on fire. Looking around, Harry saw Legion in the form of the old man standing at the far end of the Great Hall, draped in all black robes, looking much like Voldemort on the day that he died.

Instinctively, Harry knew that this was some kind of illusion but the heat of the flames surrounding Harry felt just as hot as the grease that had burned him just moments earlier. As Legion walked towards him, Harry immediately began attempting to employ Occlumency, a skill that he had honed over the last decade. While he was not an expert by any stretch of the imagination, Harry thought that he might be able to use it to keep Legion from completely shredding his mind if that was what he sought to do.

Surrounding Harry, each of them floating over forty feet in the air, was every person that he had ever cared about, dead or living. The moment that he noticed them, the bodies of those that were already dead dropped from the sky, plummeting to the earth and crashing onto the stone below with a sickening crunch.

" _They all died for you, Harry."_

Harry looked around and saw Remus and Tonks together, their hands just as close as they had been when Harry had first witnessed their dead bodies at the Battle of Hogwarts ten years earlier. Sirius' body lay spread eagle, his eyes wide open in surprise, mimicking the last look he had given before falling through the Veil, or the Arch, as it was actually known.

Dumbledore lay in a bloody heap next to his mother and father, who both stared at him with vacant eyes, their wands just out of reach.

All the while this had happened, a selection of the rest of the floating forms had lowered themselves to the ground, surrounding Harry in the center of the Great Hall, while the others and the rest of Hogwarts seemed to disappear. On his left was Ron, Luna, Neville and Ginny while Teddy, Arthur, Molly, and Hermione hovered to his right. All of them looked like they were in a great deal of pain.

" _I'll take the child."_

With a scream of pain, Teddy suddenly disappeared in a flash of fire.

" _I'll take the ones who took you in and loved you like one of their own."_

Molly and Arthur quickly met the same fate as Teddy.

"Y _ou'll bury your friends, new and old."_

All at once, Luna, Neville, Ginny and Ron disappeared, leaving only Hermione standing in front of him.

" _Then, when you are at your darkest point, I will take her and I will break her. Only then, at your lowest point, will I kill you, Harry Potter."_

"NO!"

Whether it was out loud or in his mind, Harry shouted, doubling down on his Occlumency efforts. For just a brief moment, it seemed to work. Hermione and Hogwarts faded away, replaced instead with a view of the ocean. As a throbbing pain built in Harry's head, he pushed forward, curious as to what this image, the view of the water, could mean.

Just then, a ship appeared on the horizon and with a single thought, Harry seemingly traveled hundreds of miles in a moment, landing on the deck of the ship. The ship itself was old, a single mast in the center with rows and rows of heavily bearded men pulling massive oars through the water. At the front of the ship stood a man who Harry felt he recognized but not one he could place.

Then, there was a flash and Harry saw that man standing in the center of a circle of people, much like Harry had been moments earlier, and then nothing.

When he opened his eyes, Harry suddenly found himself standing outside the employee entrance to the Ministry of Magic. Harry looked down at his watch and saw that it was only a couple of minutes before he was supposed to be at the office.

" _You've proven yourself to be something more than I thought. We'll meet again soon."_

The voice seemingly came from nowhere but considering the dozens of people wandering around the busy London streets, it could have belonged to any one of them. Somehow, Legion had transported Harry from the Safe House all the way to the Ministry, all the while inflicting the worst kind of mental torture upon his psyche. Harry had already been afraid of Legion but the ease with which Legion got to him shook him to the core, especially since it seemed that Legion had named its targets.

Teddy, Luna, Neville, Arthur, Molly, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. The death of any one of them would destroy Harry but to lose them all? Harry knew that if Legion's goal was to break Harry entirely, it had the scope of just what it needed to do to get the job done.

The only way to defeat Legion was to somehow restore the Arch. For that, Harry needed the assistance of the one person in the world that he wished to avoid. Normally, Harry's pride would have prevented him from even asking Draco Malfoy for his help but if it meant saving those that he loved, Harry would have figured out a way to ask Riddle himself.

Rather than walking through the Ministry doors, Harry sent a message to Elaina through his magic mirror, telling that he was going to interview a potential witness of the Michael Darke murder.

Then, Harry walked into a nearby alley and Apparated directly into the gardens of Malfoy Manor. As part of their punishment, Malfoy Manor remained in the control of the Malfoy family but under strict guidelines. The house was no longer allowed to be Unplottable and any Ministry official that wanted access was to be granted it immediately for a period of up to fifteen years after Lucius' release from Azkaban, which was still several years away.

In addition, every piece of communication that left or entered Malfoy Manor was searched by Ministry officials and most of their gold had been taken to pay back the millions of Galleons that Lucius had effectively stolen from the Ministry over the years.

Despite his relative high ranking in the Ministry and the constant involvement of the DMLE at Malfoy Manor since the end of the war, this was Harry's first time returning to the Pureblood's estate since his escape over ten years earlier.

Harry marched to the front door and knocked. Seconds later, the door opened to reveal Narcissa Malfoy. While she hadn't been young when Harry had last seen her, she had still been an objectively attractive woman. But even a reformed Azkaban was a difficult stay and her years in the North Sea prison were evident in the wrinkles that had appeared on her face and the bags under her eyes, a permanent and rapid aging that even magic couldn't correct.

The moment her eyes met Harry's, they narrowed in defense. Of course, she couldn't be rude to the Head Auror considering that, without provocation, Harry could order the entire house searched at any moment. But the fake smile that she plastered on her face reminded Harry more of a smiling clown than a genuine smile.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Potter?"

"Is your son here?" Harry asked.

"Why would he be here? He works at the Ministry, as do you."

"Yes, but he was ordered to be released from the Department of Mysteries yesterday and I told him that I would meet him here."

Clearly, Draco had informed her of this. Narcissa was testing the waters, seeing how much she could get out of Harry and where the lines were drawn. As she was about to find out, the line was wherever Harry decided it was. Rather than wait for her to invite him in, Harry simply marched past her, straight into the entrance hall.

Immediately, memories flooded Harry's mind. This was where he had sat face to face with Draco Malfoy, his own face swollen and bruised to the point where even Harry had barely recognized his own reflection. In that singular moment, Malfoy had taken the path of least resistance. While he hadn't condemned Harry, he certainly had advocated for his release either.

Leaving Narcissa in his wake, Harry marched towards the stairs, certain that Narcissa would guide him in the right direction.

Unfortunately, Harry reached the main landing before she did, stopping in his tracks. This was where Bellatrix had tortured Hermione, her screams echoing throughout the house as she lied to the cruelest witch Harry had ever known.

Dobby had died here at her hands.

"Lost?" Narcissa said as she caught up with her.

"In a sense," Harry grumbled.

"I assure you that it is not a particularly fond memory of us either."

"Excuse me?" Harry barked, his face instantly warm with rage.

"Lucius was tortured later that night."

"Lucius was tortured because he was a coward and a fool," Harry snapped back.

"You will not talk about my husband in his house that way."

"Last I checked, your dear husband still had a few years of living in the North Sea. Combine that with the fact that I could literally order you to move out of this house anytime I want, let's just say that I think I'll talk about Lucius Malfoy however I want, wherever I want."

Narcissa looked like she wanted to fight back, to defend her husband's honor. But Narcissa Malfoy was no fool. She likely knew that her husband had no honor and that she had no leg to stand on. If she pissed Harry off, he could easily force her to live on the streets in no time.

So, rather than push back, she turned and marched up the stairs, leading Harry on to the house's main office on the second floor. Apparently, this was where Lucius had done most of his work, considering the massive portrait that hung behind Draco, who sat at the large desk at the far corner of the room. While he never quite looked as cruel as Lucius had, the resemblance between father and son grew closer with each passing day.

"I thought I heard your dulcet tones," Draco mused as he set down his quill. "Leave us, mother."

From that moment, it was clear who owned the power dynamic between the two of them. Without even thinking of ignoring her son, Narcissa turned and marched from the room. Of course, Draco had been treated like a child by most of the rest of the world. To the general public, he was the poster child for nurture versus nature, a sure sign that a productive citizen could be destroyed by the wrong parents.

Narcissa being one of those parents.

"So, you have gotten me removed for the Department of Mysteries for the time being to join your suicide mission. What do you need of me?"

"I need you to restore the Arch," Harry said simply, knowing it was anything but.

"Not possible. You saw what it was like. That Arch is older than Hogwarts. The magic that built it has been lost to time."

"How so?"

"Due to the chaotic nature of magic in those days, witches and wizards of that era had a much better grasp of the primordial nature of magic itself. As we evolved, that kind of knowledge has been lost to us. Whereas it was something that they just implicitly understood, it would take us years to figure it out."

"So it takes us years. You're saying that it's not impossible."

"I'm saying that it seems like our ancestors created a portal to a world between life and death, a kind of magic that we simply do not possess."

A world between life and death. Immediately, Harry's mind went white, filling in the blanks with the edges of King's Cross Station. For several minutes, and yet just a moment, Harry himself had been between life and death.

"What if I told you that I've been to a place that meets that description?"

"I would say that you are full of shit."

"You would be wrong," Harry countered. "When I sacrificed myself to Riddle in the woods, the nature of our linked bonds meant that I had been killed but because my link back to Riddle still existed, I could not die. Does that make sense?"

"Not in the slightest," Malfoy drawled.

"I'll make it simple. When Riddle tried to kill me as a child, a piece of his soul latched onto me, a piece that needed to be destroyed before he could die. But when Riddle returned to his body, he used my blood, the blood that carried the sacrifice that my mother had made that night. That's why I didn't die when Riddle tried to kill me in the Forest. My mother's sacrifice kept me tethered to the living world."

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"For a moment, I found myself in a place between the living and the dead. While I was there, it was explained to me that I could have chosen to go on. I was there for what seemed like minutes but when I awoke, only seconds had gone by."

Malfoy's eyes suddenly lit up at that.

"A world between life and death. A world with no time," Malfoy replied, leaning back into his chair. "The conditions that you needed to meet to get there are basically impossible to recreate unfortunately. But…"

"But?"

"But if we could somehow create a placeholder for those events, we could theoretically create a portal that would lead us there."

"Theoretically?"

"How much runic magic have you studied, Potter?"

"None."

"Then, theoretically is the best you're getting. I'll explain the rest to Granger in more detail," Malfoy said. "Basically, the biggest issue we've ever had with trying to understand the Arch is the language. It's not any runic language that we're familiar with."

"But if you could?"

"But if we could, we might be able to tell if they used them to create a similar set of circumstances to this Limbo you are talking about. As far as I can tell from the limited information we have on it, the realm they created to capture Legion sounds similar enough that we could run with the idea."

If you had ever told Harry that he would be sitting in Malfoy Manor, sharing ideas with Draco Malfoy, he would have thought you were insane. Yet, here he was.

"I'll get Hermione to look at those runes," Harry said as he stood. Everything from now on was about time. There was none to waste if he was going to prevent Legion's vision from coming true. "If there's anyone that might be able to translate them, it's her. If not her, then Bill Weasley is our next best bet."

"Right. I'll make sure that you get the access you need."

"Good," Harry said. He turned to leave the room when Malfoy spoke up again. "Harry."

Harry stopped immediately. Never before had Draco Malfoy ever used his first name as anything other than an insult. Harry turned around and saw Malfoy standing at his desk, an uncertain look on his face.

"Yes?" Harry asked, unsure why he had even stopped in the first place.

"Listen, I need...You should know that….I want to-"

Harry couldn't take it any longer. He knew exactly what Draco Malfoy was trying to say and Harry was going to have absolutely none of that.

"No, you don't get to do that," Harry barked suddenly. "You don't get to try to be the one that becomes the better person. You, of all people, don't get to be the one to let this little feud of ours die."

"Honestly, I'm really-"

"I don't fucking care. I really don't. You were directly responsible for the death of the greatest wizard of our time. Yes, he may have orchestrated that death with Snape but if you don't let the Death Eaters into the castle, then Snape doesn't kill him! Also, you let fucking Death Eaters into the castle. You nearly killed Ron, Katie Bell and Merlin knows how many other people trying to prove that you were some big bad Death Eater!"

Harry could see that Malfoy seemed to earnestly feel bad about these things. He did not care. Feeling bad was never going to make things better because feeling bad wasn't going to fix a goddamn thing.

"You were a coward. You hid behind thugs like Crabbe and Goyle for years. You worked with Umbridge, who, when she wasn't actively torturing me during my detentions with her, was busy undermining every effort to prepare us for a war that was coming! So you realized that you were on the wrong side in the end. So you didn't immediately turn me over when we showed up here and your mother didn't rat me out to Riddle at the Battle of Hogwarts. Go fuck yourself if you honestly think that means that I should forgive you."

Harry turned to march from the room but years of pent-up rage at the Malfoy heir threatened to overwhelm him if he didn't let it out. Harry turned back to Malfoy and went in for the kill.

"For twenty-seven years, you've been on this Earth. For seventeen of them, you actively made the world worse. For five, you paid for your crimes and for the last five, you've done not one fucking thing, Malfoy. You took a job where you help no one. You have never publicly renounced your association with Riddle or the Death Eaters. But you want to say sorry? You think that's what gets you back into the good graces of the world? If you really wanted to apologize, you'd do _something,_ anything at all really, to prove that you aren't the same Pureblood monster that you were raised to be."

And with that, Harry finally turned and left Draco Malfoy, Pureblood monster, alone with his thoughts.


	12. Friends and Family

Later that afternoon, Harry sat at his desk. After having yelled at Malfoy, which Harry admitted had felt wonderful, Harry had returned to the Ministry and began reviewing all the information that the Aurors had collected on three murder scenes. Unfortunately, Harry knew better than anyone that his Aurors could collect information for weeks and never come up with enough information to "catch their killer."

A week ago, Harry was certain in his belief that the most powerful intelligent being in the world was a powerful wizard. Now, he knew better and he knew that not only was Legion more powerful than any wizard in the world, but it was more powerful by a margin that was difficult to describe. The most powerful wizard in the wizard could certainly manipulate people without hesitation or difficulty. The most powerful Legilimens in the world could likely develop their skills to such an extent that they could simply skim through the memories of their target without having to truly search for what they were looking for.

Legion had done both of those things simultaneously without the assistance of a wand. It was so much more powerful than anything that Harry had ever faced. Legion made Riddle look like a middling fifth year Defense Against the Dark Arts students. Legion was so great a threat that Harry was now relying Draco Malfoy for assistance, something that Harry would have never considered in the past.

Now, Harry thought about those that he loved, those people that Legion had threatened to kill. For the better part of a week, Harry had placed a number of his friends and family under a protective guard. Ron had been the first to ask what it was for. Harry's response had been that he had been receiving threatening letters from an anonymous source and that it was safer for everyone to be under guard.

But Harry knew that simply being under guard was not enough. Not anymore. No guard could even hold a candle against Legion. The only way to truly protect his friends and family would be to have them all disappear. Harry couldn't know where they were going, of course. The moment that Legion realized they were gone, Legion would certainly go after Harry to find out where they had gone.

Harry knew that even that might not work, but it was a better idea than not. The only problem was that Harry was entirely certain that not a single person that Harry would want to protect would go along with the plan. Harry couldn't blame them. They all had lives, they had people that counted on them and that they relied on themselves. They couldn't just disappear off the face of the earth, no matter how much Harry wanted to make that happen.

A knock on the door broke Harry from his thoughts. Harry looked up to see Elaina, along with the rest of his Senior Aurors, standing in the doorway.

"You called us, sir?" Abbi asked.

"Yes, please, have a seat," Harry said, motioning to the chairs around his desk and the couch along the far wall. Abbi and Elaina took the seats directly in front of Harry while Paul Dawlish, Collin Law, and Morgan Fawley sat on the couch. Almost immediately after they took their seats, Hermione and Malfoy, who Harry had also requested, entered the room. Hermione immediately stood behind Harry while Draco positioned himself in the corner of the room, clearly not wanting to be near Harry at the moment.

"Before we begin, everything that I say today stays in this room," Harry said, the tone of his voice letting everyone know that he was as serious as he could have been "No spouses, siblings, parents, best friends. No one. Am I perfectly clear on this fact?"

All five of his Senior Aurors nodded firmly. Harry was rarely a particularly forceful supervisor so if he was adamant about something, everyone knew that he meant business.

"Now, you all know Department Head Hermione Granger. Most of you know who Draco Malfoy is, I'm sure," Harry said, lazily gesturing towards the pale Slytherin standing in the corner. Immediately, the eyes of all five Aurors snapped to Malfoy, each of them looking like they had just seen a bug.

"Malfoy is here as a liaison from the Department of Mysteries. Once I inform you what exactly is going on, Malfoy will brief you more specifically on the details."

"What is going on, sir?" Morgan Fawley asked. "I don't even know what the hell we're doing here."

Morgan was effectively a mirrored version of Elaina. For as cool and calculating as Elaina was, Morgan often said the first thing that came to her mind, regardless of whether it was particularly appropriate at the time or not. That made it unlikely that she would ever advance beyond Senior Auror, which seemed to be just fine with her. Her team of Junior Aurors were aggressive and relentless in their pursuit of justice. Harry honestly believed that Morgan wouldn't know what to do if she was ever promoted to a position where she couldn't chase down criminals for a living.

"There has been a development in the Greene case," Harry said softly. "We now have confirmation that Helen Greene, Michael Darke, and Louise Long were all killed by the same person."

"Didn't we have that before?" Abbi asked.

"We had enough information to make an assumption but that's different than confirmation."

"And how did we confirm this information?" Dawlish asked.

"I spoke with the perp," Harry replied, which immediately garnered a stunned reaction from the five other Aurors in the room. "Now listen to me. This perp is not anything like what we've faced before. Think back to the discovery phase of the Greene case. We had so many questions. Questions that couldn't really be answer. Now, we have adequate answers to those questions, although I will tell you now, those answers are going to frighten you."

"Frighten us?" Morgan scoffed. "Sir, we're made of tougher stuff than that."

"We'll see," Harry said as he turned to Malfoy. "Give them the moderately brief version."

Harry sat back and watched for the next forty minutes as Malfoy gave his Aurors the approved version of their tale. The largest omission was the fact that Legion was specifically hunting Harry. Harry knew that if his Senior Aurors were aware of that fact, they would ignore his orders and end up putting themselves between him and Legion, which was only likely to end up with their deaths.

While Malfoy spoke, Harry watched the expressions on his Senior Aurors. These were five of the most talented witches and wizards in the entire world, a truly elite group of people. Yet, one by one, the hard, confident expressions that they usually, content in the knowledge that they were simply better at magic than most, broke, leaving them expressing the very fear that Harry had warned them would come.

If these five couldn't bear to hear the threat they faced without worry, what hope did anyone outside this room have?

When Malfoy was finished, he turned back to Harry, who remained silent, allowing everyone to absorb what they had just been told. Harry couldn't give them enough time to truly come to grips with this information (no amount of time would truly be enough for that), but he did give them a few minutes to get their minds right.

"Questions?" Harry asked simply.

As expected, no one said anything. Truthfully, there was nothing to ask. As far as any of them knew, Legion was not a threat to be defeated. As far as they could tell, it was invincible, immutable, and immortal and nothing could be done to alter those facts.

"I have one, sir," Elaina finally said weakly.

"Yes?"

"What are we supposed to do if we believe we have come into contact with...it?"

Harry sat upright in his chair, his back straight as a board. He wanted to be as crystal clear as possible when he gave this particular order.

"If you believe that you have come into contact with Legion, you contact me via magic mirror. Then, you run."

Obviously, his Senior Aurors had expected a better answer. He was Harry Potter after all. If there was anyone out there who could beat this thing, if there was anyone who had the answers they were looking for, it would have to be him.

As expected, Morgan was the first to speak up.

"Sir, that's not-"

"That's an order," Harry snapped, cutting her off harshly. "If I find out that you did anything other than exactly what I just told you, and you manage to live, then I'll fire you on the spot."

"You just expect us to run?" Collin asked in confusion. Collin was Harry's least favorite Senior Auror by a wide margin, largely because he was more bureaucrat than Auror and a favorite of the former Head Auror. But, you could never call him a coward. Collin had once run into a burning building on the verge of collapse and pulled out two small children and a house elf, moments before the house imploded.

"Let me be clear on this: Legion is an enemy like we've never seen. It is not human and its power outstripes ours by a measure that is almost comical," Harry replied. "At the moment, Draco here is working with Miss Granger and Bill Weasley to interpret the runes on the Arch. It is our hope that they can figure out a way to restore the Arch's power or duplicate it in some way. Without that, we have no real way of fighting against it."

Harry could tell from the look on their faces that they still didn't quite understand. None of them could. Until they stood in front of it, its face frozen in that horrid, twisted smile, they couldn't know what it was like to feel like an ant looking up at the underside of a boot.

"I know that this is a lot to take in and if you need to talk to someone, I am here as is Miss Granger," Harry said, gesturing to Hermione on his right. "But we're the only people that can know about this. You can't tell any of your Junior Aurors. You can't tell you wives, husbands, children, no one. Am I perfectly clear on that fact?"

All five of them murmured an agreement, although Harry could tell that none of them were very happy about it. Unfortunately, keeping secrets was part of the job, even from those you loved.

Sometimes, especially from those you loved.

"I'm certain you all have work to do," Harry said. "Do some of it and then take the rest of the day off. All of you have earned the break."

Slowly, the five Senior Aurors collected their things and stood, making their way to the door, one by one, followed quickly by Malfoy himself. In the end, however, one of them remained in his doorway.

"Elaina?"

"Sir, I was wondering if I could speak with you privately?" Elaina asked, her eyes locked on Hermione. Without a second's hesitation, Hermione stood and began collecting her things.

"I have work to do anyway," Hermione replied. "I'll let the two of you talk."

Seconds later, Hermione walked out the door, leaving Harry face-to-face with the newest Senior Auror in the Office. Harry considered her for a moment. Almost anyone who had just received the kind of intelligence that she had just received would be frightened. Certainly, she was. They were all frightened and they had every reason to be.

But at the moment, Elaina looked resolute more than anything else.

"Speak your mind, Elaina," Harry said, knowing that he hadn't needed to ask.

Most people would take a moment to collect themselves at such a direct request. But Elaina had worked with Harry for years now and could anticipate just about every request that he would make, apparently including this one.

"It's wrong that we're not telling the public about this," Elaina said firmly. "There's something out there that could kill all of them and we're keeping it a secret?"

Harry had considered this, of course. He knew that this was something that was bound to come up eventually, especially when you considered the fact that the people in Harry's office were tasked with protecting the lives of the magical population of an entire country.

"I don't disagree with you," Harry admitted. "But we don't know enough to be helpful."

"Don't know enough? We know that there's some sort of immortal serial killer on the loose. Shouldn't that be enough?" Elaina asked, her voice rising slightly. Again, most of the other Aurors would have probably been more measured in her response. But Elaina knew that Harry valued honesty above everything else, even (or especially) at the expense of decorum.

"What do we know? Do we know what it looks like? Do we know how it uses magic?" Harry asked. "We don't _know_ anything, other than the fact that it is incredibly old and more powerful than anything we've ever faced."

"That's information that the public could use."

"That's information that would cause a public panic," Harry fired back. "If I go out there and tell The Prophet that there's an incredibly powerful homicidal maniac on the loose and we have no idea who he is or what he looks like, not only are we going to look incompetent, but we're also going to cause a panic for no good reason."

Harry hoped that she understood that point at least. It was the only thing keeping him from doing exactly what she said, even though he knew that it didn't make any sense. The last thing that Harry wanted was someone getting in between him and Legion. No one else needed to die because of him.

"If you were on the outside, you would want to know," Elaina replied. "If you were out there and you found out that the Ministry was lying to you, you would be fucking furious."

That he could not deny as he had seen it himself a number of times.

"You're not wrong," Harry said, conceding that point, "but it's not our job to do what makes the public happy, Elaina. It's our job to protect them, even if that means lying to them on occasion."

He could see that she didn't care for that line of thinking. In all honesty, Harry didn't love it either. He knew that it was something that he could say to himself to justify his actions, regardless of whether he truly meant it or not. Thankfully, he did believe it. He did believe that, in this instance, withholding information was certainly a better option than telling the whole country that they could be killed at a moment's notice and there was nothing that the Aurors could do to stop it.

"I can't contest that point," Elaina said, clearly struggling to admit even that much. "This just seems like something Fudge would have done."

Elaina turned and walked out the door, leaving Harry to suddenly question every decision he had made regarding Legion. He couldn't disagree with her comparison. Fudge had lied for months about Riddle's return. But Fudge could at least lean back on one kernel of truth: he had never actually seen Riddle return. There lie the one fundamental difference between the two of them.

Harry had seen Legion multiple times. He knew the threat that Legion posed to the world, and still, he refused to tell them. For nearly an hour, Harry tried to push forward on his work, only to have the same doubts creep into the back of his mind, telling him that he was no better than Cornelius Fudge. Harry didn't believe that to be true. Harry was lying, yes, but he was lying to protect others. Fudge was simply lying to protect his own interests.

Not surprisingly, this didn't make Harry feel any better.

Harry spent the rest of his day trying to catch up on the mountains of paperwork that threatened to swallow his desk. Despite the fact that he had been Head Auror for almost a week now, Harry had barely had a moment's time to actually sit down and do his job simply because the Green (now Legion) case had taken up all of his time.

When the rest of his Senior Aurors left the office around four, Harry was still seated at his desk, reading investigation reports. When the rest of the Aurors left just before six, Harry could be found in his office, making notes on an action report where one of the Rookie Aurors had been forced to Stun a drunk man in the middle of Diagon Alley. The details behind the actions were sloppy, the result of Gawain Robard's lack of leadership. Robards had often said that the best way to learn is on the job.

That was true until an unprepared Auror Stunned someone in front of fifty people when there were at least three other options that Harry could see that could have de-escalated the situation without resulting in an Auror using his wand. Harry expected to be talking to the Prophet about this incident come Monday. In a morbid way, Harry was glad that something like this happened, a foolish and stupid thing to be sure, but something that would distract everyone from the string of grizzly murders that Harry had still not solved almost two months after the first one.

Finally, around seven, Harry packed up the remaining files in his bag and left, knowing that his weekend would be spent worrying when Legion would attack again while going through the mind numbing paperwork that he had just collected. Tonight, however, Harry wouldn't be going home. In light of the threats on his family, Harry realized that he needed to do a quick check-in with the person in his life who he had arguably neglected more than anyone else.

After quickly dropping his bag off at his home, Harry quickly Apparated to the home of Andromeda Tonks and Edward Lupin, landing just a few feet from the marshy swamp that he and Hagrid had crashed into the first time Harry had come here after escaping from Privet Drive. Harry walked across the lawn to the front door and gave it a gentle knock. Moments later, the door opened to reveal Andromeda. To this day, Harry still gave a start every time he saw her, so strong was the resemblance to her sister, Bellatrix.

But the smile that graced Andromeda's face not the sinister one that had often been draped across her sister's face. This one was warm and genuine as she threw the door open and then tossed her arms around Harry.

"Harry! How are you?" she said as she squeezed him tightly. Much like Molly Weasley, Andromeda had mastered the mother's hug. It was so tight that you almost couldn't breath but you could still feel the love and warmth that resonated from the other person. That love was so great that a person would be tempted to risk suffocating just to hold onto them just a few moments longer.

"I'm alright," Harry replied as they separated.

One look from Andromeda told him she didn't believe him for a minute, a feeling she articulated just a few moments later.

"You're the Head Auror now and there's some sort of gnarly serial killer running around. Of course you aren't alright, dear."

"Well, then I've been better," Harry admitted nervously. How much should he tell her? If Legion's vision was truly its plan, then Teddy had been marked for death. But much like the regular population, there was nothing that they could do to prevent Legion's assault, other than simply hide them away.

He needed to tell them. It was as simple as that. Most of the wizarding world wasn't a target but Teddy had been explicitly chosen by this monster. They needed to know and they needed to hide. But Harry would wait until after dinner.

"Clearly," Andromeda said as she pulled Harry inside the house. "He's up in his room. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

"Thanks," Harry said as he climbed the stairs, making his way to the room at the far end of the hallway. Edward, known to his friends and family as Teddy, was a boy of contrast. At just over ten years old, he was undoubtedly brilliant. He had been able to read as early as four and was reading some of Harry's old first year textbooks as early as six.

However, his favorite thing in the world was Quidditch, something that neither Lupin or Tonks had much interest in. His favorite team was the Holyhead Harpies and he followed them with such passion that it bordered on obsession. Twenty years later, it was still quite amusing to watch Teddy interact with Ginny, who treated her much as Ginny had treated Harry the first time they had truly met at The Burrow. He knew every stat, every player name, and he knew exactly when they had won their league titles and who they had been playing against on the night they won.

Yet, Teddy was also a remarkably quiet child. Most children that were brilliant and obsessed with sports seemed to be the loud kind who wanted everyone to know just how much they knew, much like George and Angelina's son, Fred, who recited the names of famous witches and wizards and their accomplishments at Sunday dinner. On the flip side, Teddy barely spoke.

Harry supposed that likely had to do with his upbringing. For the first few years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Andromeda had been an incredibly protective guardian. Losing your husband and daughter in a matter of weeks will do that to a person. It took nearly three years before Andromeda was regularly willing to leave the house with Teddy. Even then, they rarely spent time around other children, meaning that Teddy was often left to his own devices.

As a result, Teddy was quiet and intensely devoted to his grandmother, at the expense of all other relationships. Even at ten, and just a year away from going to Hogwarts, Harry couldn't help but be worried that Teddy wouldn't make it more than a week without Andromeda without breaking down.

Harry's personal relationship with Teddy was complicated. Around his sixth birthday, Teddy had asked the question that everyone had known was coming.

" _How did my parents die?"_

Every single time Harry showed up at the Tonks' house, the events of that day played out in his mind.

Andromeda had called Harry on his magic mirror in a panic, uncertain of what to tell the young boy. Harry had immediately dropped everything and raced over to the house. Since the Battle, since Lupin and Tonks' deaths, Harry said that, if Andromeda allowed him, he would be the one to tell Teddy what happened to his parents when he asked.

When the time came, Harry found that it was one of the hardest things that he had ever done. He felt good that they had never lied to Teddy. Harry spent the first ten years of his life believing a lie and he would not allow the same thing to happen to Teddy. Harry knew that the truth would hurt, but he also knew that the truth is what Teddy deserved.

Harry had entered the house that day and went straight to Teddy's room, much like he was doing today. He found Teddy sitting at the desk in the corner of his room, drawing the crest of Ravenclaw House from memory. While his father had been a Gryffindor and his mother a Hufflepuff, Teddy had always like Ravenclaw's crest the best.

He liked the eagle, it was as simple as that.

Harry broke Teddy away from his drawing and set him down on the side of the bed, desperately trying to formulate the right words to say. Harry knew the truth. He knew that there were no right words, only the facts.

"When I was younger, there was a bad man who wanted to hurt me."

"Did you do something to him?" Teddy had asked.

"No. No, I was just a baby the first time he tried to hurt me. You see, someone had told him that I would grow up to be very powerful, powerful enough to beat him. He didn't like that because he wanted to be the strongest wizard in the world. When I was one, he tried to…"

How much did he tell him? Harry had committed to telling Teddy the truth but did he really need to know that his godfather had almost been killed as a baby? But one look at the strong, intelligent boy sitting next to Harry gave him his answer.

"He tried to kill me," Harry finally said.

"But he didn't."

"No, but my Mom and Dad died protecting me from him. When I was older, he came back."

"What was his name?" Teddy asked suddenly.

"Who?"

"The bad man, what was his name?"

Harry had never one time found saying Riddle's name, either his real one or his self-given moniker, difficult but for some reason, giving either name to a six-year-old seemed like too much. But he would not waver. Harry was committed to answering all of the boy's questions, as much as he could anyway.

"He was born with the name Tom Riddle, but when he got older, he chose a new name for himself to scare people. He called himself Lord Voldemort."

"Voldemort? Sounds silly," Teddy scoffed and in an instant, Harry suddenly felt at ease. For everyone else, Voldemort was a name of terror, a memory that even for the bravest among them lead to memories of death and destruction.

But for this boy, it was just a silly name. Harry absorbed that for a moment, knowing that it would likely be the last time that was true.

"I suppose it was," Harry admitted. "But Riddle came back during my fourth year at Hogwarts and began asking people to join him. Eventually, he got so powerful that he took over the Ministry of Magic."

"Merlin…"

"Me and Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione, we spent a year running away from him, hiding in the woods to avoid being caught. We knew how to beat him but we had to collect a few objects in order to do it. The last one was at Hogwarts. The school had been taken over by Riddle too. It was run by a man named Severus Snape, but that's a story for a different day."

"When we came back, people thought that we were there to free the school. They called all of our friends and all of our parents' friends and told them to come to the school and fight back. We did fight back."

"Did my parents help you?" Teddy asked.

Harry's heart broke as he looked down at Teddy. Teddy, who looked so much like his father, minus his hair, which currently a bright yellow, a sure sign that he had inherited his mother's gifts. It struck Harry in that moment that it was almost identical to the way that people had described Harry: he looked like James, except for his eyes. Those belonged to his mother.

"Merlin, yes," Harry responded. "They were about as helpful as anyone, especially your father. Without him, I wouldn't be here today."

"That's funny."

"What's so funny about that?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Well, Grandma says something like that about you. She said that I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. You saved my father."

Later, Harry had asked Andromeda what she meant when she said that. Her answer was not something that Harry would ever forget.

"I knew Remus Lupin long before he ever had any designs on marrying my daughter. Hell, I remember him from Hogwarts. He was a few years younger than me but he wasn't hard to notice. He always looked sick and his clothes seemed like they were four sizes too big. When the news got out that he was a werewolf, that all made sense, of course. Over the years, I ran into him a few times and he always seemed like a man on the verge of collapse, like he could just give up and end it all like that."

She snapped her fingers to punctuate the word that, causing Harry to jump slightly.

"But everyone who knew Remus saw a change in him after his year teaching at Hogwarts. Something about him changed. When we asked him about it, he had lied at first, saying that nothing was different. But when it became too noticeable, too obvious, he finally conceded that he had a reason to truly live now. At first, no one knew exactly what he meant. But as he and Nymphadora got closer, it was obvious. He talked about you like you were his own son. In a way, I suppose you were, especially after Sirius's death. You kept him alive, Harry. Without you, I don't think he makes to the end of the war. Without you, he doesn't find a reason to keep living and he certainly doesn't marry Nymphadora. You saved Remus and Teddy is the proof of that."

As Harry remembered that, he nodded at Teddy's insight, impressed that the young man had remembered something like that.

"I suppose we saved each other then, didn't we?" Harry suggested. "But yes, your parents were there at Hogwarts. They were there because they believed in what we were fighting for. They believed in me. Your father and mother were there because I was there. They were killed fighting to protect me."

Immediately, Harry noticed a change in Teddy. He knew there would be. There was no way that information like that wouldn't change a person, especially one as young as Teddy. Teddy was wise beyond his years but it was immediately evident that something had changed in their relationship.

"Oh," was all that Teddy said, his eyes suddenly dropping to the floor.

For nearly an hour, Harry and Teddy had sat in silence before Teddy simply stood and walked over to the desk in the corner of his room and returned to his drawing. They had never discussed Remus or Tonks again, something that truly bothered Harry, although he didn't know how to address it with the shy ten-year-old.

Four years later, Harry stood in the doorway of the same room and watched as Teddy Lupin drew another picture. This time, it was the Holyhead Harpies insignia. Judging by the stack of parchment on either side of Teddy, most of them with versions of the logo scribbled onto them, Teddy had been at it for quite awhile.

"You're getting better each time I see you," Harry said as he walked across the room and watched Teddy draw the final S on Harpies before looking up at Harry.

"I'm working on it," Teddy said. "I'll give one to Ginny the next time I see her if they're good enough."

"I think she'll appreciate it either way," Harry replied. "How is school going?"

Teddy went to a school run by a witch in the area. Much like any other English primary school, they were taught proper grammar and mathematics. Unlike most other English primary schools, owls delivered the mail much like they did at Hogwarts.

"School is fine. I'm tired of learning about triangles though. I would much rather learn how to use a wand."

Harry chuckled. While Teddy was shy, he was certainly not afraid to express his opinion.

"You've got a year left. Just be patient and you'll be wearing the Sorting Hat soon enough."

"I know. It's just hard to wait," Teddy said. "Mr. Jordan's son, Oliver, keeps telling me all about the things that his dad used to get up to at school."

"Well, it helped that Lee was best friends with the Weasley twins," Harry said with a smirk, thinking back to some of the pranks they pulled during his time at school.

"Did they get into a lot of trouble?"

"They got a lot of detentions, for sure, but the only time they ever got into any real trouble was kind of my fault."

"You got _them_ in trouble?"

"Well, this wasn't the fun kind of trouble that they practiced," Harry explained. "We were all on the same Quidditch team. One of the players on the Slytherin team said something cruel to me and George. I wasn't thinking and neither was George and we fought back. Eventually, George, Fred, and I were all banned from the Quidditch team."

"But Fred didn't even do anything!" Teddy protested.

"No, but the teacher who banned us was...not a nice woman. She was a Ministry employee, back when that meant something different than it does today. She was just using the punishment as a way to get back at me for some of the things that I was saying."

Teddy screwed up his face at that.

"What were you saying that was so bad that she banned you from Quidditch!?"

"Well, I was...saying that Riddle had returned."

Immediately, Teddy's mood shifted, just like it did any other time that name came up. While the years had mended a large part of their relationship, Tom Riddle still managed to come between Harry and his godson. Riddle was connected to Harry and through him, Teddy's parents.

"I imagine Grandma's about ready for dinner," Teddy said quietly, getting up and making a beeline for the door. Harry waited for a moment, allowing Teddy to get clear of the room before following him. In these moments, Harry had learned that the best thing that he could do was give Teddy his space.

Dinner was a quiet affair with Teddy saying less than ten words in total as Harry and Andromeda idly passed the time discussing Quidditch, hoping that Teddy would latch onto the conversation. Unfortunately, nothing seemed to shake him out of his malaise and by the time dinner was over, Teddy voluntarily sent himself to bed, leaving Harry and Andromeda at the dinner table.

"He'll come around one day," Andromeda assured Harry as she rose and began clearing the table. With a flick of her wand, all the dishes floated across the room to the sink where they began cleaning themselves while Harry and Andromeda migrated towards the back porch. From there, they could look out on the valley behind Andromeda's home and towards the moor in the distance.

Andromeda had clearly sensed Harry's unease because the moment that they reached the back door, Andromeda's wand quickly circled around them, preventing their conversation from traveling up to Teddy's room.

"What's on your mind, Harry?"

"I need to warn you that there might be trouble coming," Harry replied. "In fact, I can almost guarantee it. I'll probably need to move both of you."

"How bad is it?" Andromeda asked as she took a seat on one of the rocking chairs that sat to the right of the back door.

"It's…"

"You're not going to frighten me, boy," Andromeda said, pointing at the other chair, a clear order for Harry to follow which he did without hesitation. "How bad?"

Even though he knew that Andromeda was not one to be easily frightened, he still struggled with just how much to tell her. Legally, there was only so much that he should tell her but when it came to Teddy's safety, Harry would break every law known to man in order to ensure that nothing happened to him.

Still, Harry decided on a watered-down version of the events.

"It's as bad as it has ever been," Harry admitted. "There's something hunting me."

"Something? What the hell does that mean?"

"I'm not exactly sure, being honest. I know that it is incredibly powerful, whatever it is, and I know that it wants me. In the process, it seems to be playing some sort of game."

"That game involves Teddy?" Andromeda asked, always quick to get the center of the matter at hand. "Why?"

"Because he's important to me," Harry replied. "Unfortunately, it's nothing more complicated than that. It seems that whatever is hunting me either gains power, or at least some morbid enjoyment, out of harming those that I care about. It gave me the list of people that it wants to go after and Teddy was on the list."

Andromeda looked at Harry hard. As much as Harry had been through, if there was someone that could claim to truly understand the level of tragedy, it was Andromeda Tonks. She had been abandoned by her family after marrying a Muggleborn, who was then killed during the war, the same war that would eventually claim her daughter and son-in-law, leaving her grandson an orphan. If there was anyone that understood what family meant to Harry, it was her.

"I assume that you can't know where we're going," Andromeda replied.

"You're going to leave?"

Andromeda nodded. "He won't like it and he won't understand why, but it's what's best for him. We'll go-"

"Don't tell me where. Don't tell me anything. I don't want to know where you are going or when you're leaving. Don't tell me and don't tell anyone that has ever met me."

"It's that bad?" Andromeda asked, skeptical of the threat for the first time.

"It makes Riddle look like a joke," Harry replied earnestly. "I've never seen anything like this before. Just go. I'll send you a letter when it's safe."

"What happens if we never hear from you?"

"Then you'll have bigger things to worry about," Harry replied ominously. He knew that he was being intentionally obtuse but the less she knew, the more paranoid she would be and the more likely that this whole thing would end with Teddy alive, regardless of any other outcome.

For a few minutes, Harry and Andromeda simply sat in silence on the back porch, staring out over the valley, thinking about what they were going to do next.

"Are you going to go say goodbye to him?"

"No," Harry said, although that was all he wanted to do in the moment. "Just tell him that I'm trying to protect him."

"He won't understand."

"Not today, no, but one day. He's a smart kid. One day, he'll put it all together and I'll have to tell him everything. But for now, just tell him that I love him."

Andromeda stood next to Harry and placed her hands on his shoulders, bringing her face to within inches of hers.

"You'll figure this out. You'll figure this out and when you do, you let us know and we'll come back. You and I, we're all that boy has left of his parents. They named you his godfather for a reason, Harry. Now, figure this out so that my boy can come home."

"I'll do my best, but it's not simple."

"Voldemort wasn't simple either and you managed to pull that off, didn't you? Don't tell me that it's going to be hard. Everything about your life has been hard, but you did it all. Do it again."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said. For the first time in a long time, Harry honestly felt like there might be a chance. Andromeda had never been one to put blind faith in people, even someone like Harry who had overcome the odds time and time again. So when she told someone that she believed in them, you could take that straight to Gringotts.

Harry resisted the urge to climb the stairs to see his godson. This would not be the last time that he saw Teddy. He would do exactly as Andromeda said. He would figure it out and, come hell or high water, he would end Legion and see his godson again.


	13. Twenty-Eight Candles

The month of July disappeared without a single appearance from Legion. Every day, Harry awoke, expecting to be greeted with tragedy on the front page of The Daily Prophet. Instead, the news was as mundane as ever, littered with boring public interest stories and rumors of Kingsley's resignation from the Ministry, rumors that Kingsley denied intensely.

Harry visited Andromeda and Teddy's house a week after his last visit and sure enough, they were gone. All of their clothes had been taken out of their closets and their personal belongings had also been removed from the house. It was depressing and terrible, knowing that they were on the run because of him, but if it kept his godson safe, Harry would live with that pit in the depths of his stomach for as long as it took to get rid of Legion.

Hermione had been working with Malfoy and Bill for nearly six weeks on the Arch with little to show for their effort. They had been able to determine that the runes were certainly related to Muggle texts from sometime in the early first millennium AD but beyond that, they were at an impasse.

At the same time, the investigation into the random murders had come to a standstill, due to the fact that the murderer had disappeared. The rumor mill had gone into overdrive regarding what could have caused the murderer to suddenly stop. Some believed that they had been secretly killed by the Ministry, others believed that Harry had scared them away. Whatever the case, public faith in the Ministry of Magic remained relatively high.

If it was currently as a result of a lie or public misconception, Harry wasn't about to correct them, not when the truth was distinctly more horrifying than any lie they would have come up with. Just as there had been no progress on catching the "murderer," Legion hadn't made a single appearance in nearly five weeks. Harry doubted that this was unintentional. Quite the opposite, in fact. Harry was certain that this was Legion's way of getting into Harry's mind. Legion had spent just over a week terrorizing London before revealing itself to Harry. From there, it had targeted Harry for another week before vanishing into the night.

It was the calm before the storm and Harry was certain that when the time came, he would be ready. Unfortunately, this made him look exceptionally paranoid especially to those that were unaware of the threat that Harry was truly going against. Three weeks earlier, Harry had attempted to cancel his and Ron's bi-weekly Cannons match. When Ron had asked Harry what he was doing, Harry had tried to come up with some excuse related to work. The excuse had almost worked until Ron had spoken with Hermione just moments later, who had told Harry that the investigation into the serial killer had been paused for the moment, the very excuse that Harry had given to get out of going with Ron.

In the end, Harry had gone to the match and nothing had happened, which was almost worse than if something had happened. Of course Harry knew that wasn't true. If something had happened at the match, Ron would likely be dead, along with an untold number of other people.

The clock just above Harry's right shoulder struck seven, a common occurrence over the last few weeks. While the investigation had gone quiet over that time, Harry's workload had not. In fact, now that there wasn't an active investigation on his hands (Elaina Andrews had been given the operational lead on the murders a week earlier so that Harry could focus on actually being the Head Auror), Harry found himself inundated with the kind of work that he hated: paper work.

Harry was slowly discovering why Gawain Robards seemed like he was pissed off at every moment of the day. Over the last two weeks, Harry's schedule had been exactly the same: arrive at the Ministry around seven, Senior Auror meeting at eight, reports and meetings with lead investigators until around six, and then at least an hour of paperwork before he went home around seven. The Head Auror was certainly an important position, especially in those rare moments of crisis.

But those moments were truly rare. With Legion hiding until he made his next move, there were really no major cases operating at the moment. Almost every case of accidental or dangerous magic started in the Auror Office but if it was found that it was simply an accident, then a report was written and filed with Harry, who reviewed it and then rubber stamped the case's department transfer to Accidental Magic. Certainly there were dangerous people out there. Right now, there were a string of robberies that seemed tied to a group of black market dealers that had taken over much of the old Knockturn Alley area. There was also the rumors of a clan of dragon egg smugglers that were using some of Britain's smaller magical communities as a staging ground for their deals with European smugglers. While these two groups may have been performing illegal activities, ultimately they didn't cause much in the way of public concern or damage, meaning that even if Harry's Aurors never caught them, no one would raise much of a fuss about it.

Harry was in the middle of reading a report on Madeline May's investigation into an exploding tea kettle in Cambridge when there was a knock on the door. Harry did a quick final scan of the report and, satisfied that it was truly an accident, signed his initials at the bottom before sending it off to Accidental Magic.

"Come in!"

The door opened and none other than Hermione Granger herself walked in the door. Ever since Legion's sudden disappearance, Harry had seen significantly less of Hermione while at work. While Hermione was Harry's direct supervisor, she also supervised nearly two dozen offices within the Ministry of Magic. With Legion not causing any immediate problems, that meant that Hermione had stepped away from the Aurors to fulfill her other job duties, much like Harry had done within the Auror Office.

Harry looked up at Hermione, intending to ask her why she was still at the Ministry so late on a Friday. However, when he saw what she was wearing, all words left his mouth as it hung open. She wore a slim black dress that shimmered like dragon scales in the light. In fact, Harry was almost certain that it was dragon scales, but clothing made of dragon scales, especially black dragon scales, was about the most expensive thing any witch or wizard could purchase.

If Hermione had used her Ministry salary on this, then it was well used. The dress hugged her sides perfectly and the fabric looped around the back of her neck, covering only the very top and the very bottom of her back, which would have been completely exposed to the world if not for the overcoat that she was currently wearing over top of it.

"What?" Hermione asked as she entered the room.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Harry asked, unable to keep the words from popping out of his mouth.

"Does it look bad? I just bought it."

"Are you mental?" Harry asked. "I mean, Hermione, you've always been good looking, but Merlin…"

"So you like it?" Hermione said with a smirk as she twirled softly, letting the edges of the dress billow up into the air slightly.

"I'll like it more when you take that coat off," Harry admitted. Ever since Harry and Hermione had started their little affair, he had been perfectly clear about how attractive he found Hermione, something that he knew she appreciated, even if, like every other brilliant woman, she preferred to be complimented for her intelligence first. Of course, she knew that Harry thought she was brilliant as well.

"Later. Now, why are you still here?" Hermione asked.

"You're still here," Harry countered.

"Yes, but it's not...my…."

"It's not your what?"

Hermione sighed, almost to herself, before pointing at the calendar on Harry's desk. The magical calendar always circled the current date, which was good because Harry barely remembered what day it was. Harry leaned forward to see that the date circled was July 31, 2008.

July 31.

Today was his birthday. In the craziness of Legion's appearance and the subsequent stress of learning his new job, Harry had entirely forgotten that today was July 31, his birthday.

"Happy birthday, Harry," Hermione said with a smile. "Now, put the paper down. We're leaving."

"Where are we going?"

"The Three Broomsticks. Ron and Neville organized a bunch of people to get together. They arrived an hour ago."

"Was this supposed to be a surprise?" Harry asked.

"Yes, but I knew you wouldn't come if it was."

"I might not go now that I know," Harry replied.

"Yes, you will. Ron and Neville got an ungodly amount of people and they've prepaid for a rather large bar tab. You will go, you will act surprised, and you will have a good time."

"How am I supposed to have a good time? Legion is still out there, just waiting. This is the prefect kind of thing for him to attack."

"He could attack you at the Ministry any day and there is nothing we could do to stop him. If he attacks, then we run. But if there's nothing you can do and nothing I can do, then the least we're going to do is enjoy your birthday."

As much as it worried Harry, he could see her point. At the moment, there was nothing that could be done about Legion.

Harry nodded gently and then packed up his files into his briefcase, which automatically locked once Harry set it down, meaning that Harry wouldn't have to go home before they Apparated together to Hogsmeade. Harry and Hermione then walked from Harry's office to the Apparition point at the Ministry entrance, distinctly aware of the fact that everyone was looking at the two of them.

If Kingsley was the most powerful person in the Ministry, then Hermione was likely the second. Harry may have been a significant way down the Ministry totem pole, but he was Harry Potter and that carried more weight than any political position. Combine that with the long-spread rumors about Harry and Hermione's love life (which were rooted in a fairy-tale version of the truth) and they became the most fascinating people in any room they walked into.

Finally, they reached the Atrium and Apparated to Hogsmeade without incident. Despite the warmth of the late July evening, Hermione wrapped her arm around Harry's as they slowly walked towards The Three Broomsticks, each of them sharing the details of their day.

Once they reached the bar, Hermione looked into the small glass window at the top of the door to confirm that everyone was in place.

Then, she turned back to Harry.

"You'll act surprised?"

"For you, I will act surprised."

"Good," Hermione said as she quickly scanned the area. Once she was sure that there was no one around, she leaned up and kissed Harry gently. When she pulled back, she had a strange smirk on her face.

"What was that for?" Harry asked.

"It's the first part of your birthday present."

"First part?"

"Well, if you're good while we're in there, then I have more for you to unwrap later," Hermione explained. "I told my Aurors that I wouldn't be home tonight. I believe that they are guarding one of the Safe Houses."

"You ditched your Aurors?"

"I ditched my Aurors so that you and I could have one night without someone watching us. You've been staying in that damn Safe House for a month now and being the Head of the DMLE has really done a lot to destroy my love life."

"I thought you were going out with that Wizengamot advocate? Marcus?"

"Marcus was fine," Hermione replied. "But he was perfectly boring and kissed like a fish. It was awful."

"So I'm your booty call because you can't find someone interesting to date?"

"You mean like I've been for you so that you don't have to sleep with people who are only interested in fucking the Boy Who Lived?"

"Fair point," Harry said before leaning in to return Hermione's kiss, only on the cheek. "Thank you. I don't deserve you."

"I know," Hermione said before she turned and marched through the door. Harry knew what was on the other side and still, he wasn't prepared for it. However, he did have an incentive for getting through this night and it was because of that that Harry walked through the door, directly into the wall of sound that greeted him as he cleared the doorway.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARRY!"

When Hermione had said that Ron and Neville had gotten a large group of people together, Harry had assumed that she had meant some of the Weasleys, may some old DA friends. But this was far beyond what Harry's imagination could have thought up.

Most of the surviving members of the DA were there, yes, but so was everyone that Harry ever played Quidditch with. A quick glance suggested that every living member of the Order of the Phoenix had made it out, including current Hogwarts Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. Abbi and Elaina stood in the back, away from the rest, clearly uncomfortable being in a room with some of the most famous people in the country, which counted the Minister of Magic among its number.

There must have been fifty people standing in the center of the Three Broomsticks, which had clearly been emptied for the evening, with Ron and Neville standing at the front of the pack, an ale raised high in celebration of Harry's twenty-eighth birthday.

"To Harry!" Neville shouted, the ale sloshing out of his glass as he and everyone else thrust their mugs in the air before taking a drink in honor of Harry. Ron immediately handed Harry a mug of his own, clinking the pair together before each of them took a healthy swig of some of Rosmerta's famous ale.

"What the hell is all this?" Harry asked as he wiped the suds off his upper lip.

"It's your birthday, mate."

"Yes, my twenty-eighth birthday. It's not like it's a big milestone."

"No," Neville said as he approached Harry, a wild smile on his face. "But we know that life has been tough for you recently, what with all those grisly murders and everything else that must come with being the top Auror in the land. Congrats, by the way."

"Thanks, mate. How are things with you?"

"Now that summer has it? Things are great. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids, but by the end of June, you're ready to kill just about all of them. I can't imagine what it was like to be our professors."

"We must have given McGonagall more stress in those seven years than any other seven years of her life," Ron commented, just as the matron of Hogwarts herself strode over to Harry, a rare smile on her face.

"Potter," she said simply as she stopped in front of Harry.

"Professor," Harry replied.

"I suppose some birthday salutations are in order," McGonagall replied, an ornery smirk on her face.

"I would never dare to tell you what to do, Headmistress," Harry countered. This was the game that Harry and McGonagall seemed to play in public. Dozens of books had been written about Harry after the war and in nearly half of them, they perpetuated a rumor that Harry and McGonagall had a largely contentious relationship. Harry supposed those rumors likely came from other students who publicly saw that McGonagall did not seem to favor the Chosen One over the rest of her students (the Nimbus 2000 aside).

In truth, Harry had always counted Minerva McGonagall among the greatest of his supporters, both during the war and after it. For nearly three years after the war, Harry would regularly return to Hogwarts and share lunch with his former Head of House. Some had called her a substitute for Harry's relationship with Dumbledore, but Harry would have never suggested such a thing. The two were as different as could be. With Dumbledore, there had always been secrets. Even if, in the end, Harry understood why those secrets had existed, it had always left Harry with a foul taste in his mouth.

On the other side of the equation was the new Headmistress, who told Harry as much as she could. She was unfailingly blunt with him and when his investigation into the whereabouts of Antonin Dolohov had reached a dead end, she had been the one to tell him that he simply wasn't looking hard enough. With a renewed sense of vigor, Harry had returned to work and discovered several missed connections.

Within a month, Antonin Dolohov had been in Ministry custody.

Finally, the dam broke and the smile returned to the Headmistress' face.

"Happy birthday, Potter,"

"Thank you, Professor," Harry replied warmly. "We were just talking to your Herbology professor. He seems to be quite glad that it's summer."

"He is not the only one," McGonagall admitted. "It is a long year away from home, both for the students and the professors."

"Do you ever wish you had done something else, Professor?" Hermione asked.

McGonagall seemed to consider the question for a moment before smiling softly.

"I worked in the Ministry of Magic for a few years before Albus hired me to fill his position. I absolutely hated it, the feeling that I was wasting my life with files and paperwork and politics. My first few years at Hogwarts were...rough."

"Rough?" Neville asked. "What do you mean?"

"I was not a natural educator," McGonagall admitted. "I was, of course, a gifted witch, especially in Transfiguration, but passing that information along to children, especially those that had no interest in the subject was often frustrating for me. Many times over the years, I considered the idea that I could do something else with my life, especially once I became Albus' Deputy Headmistress. With that kind of position on my resume, I could have done anything."

"But over the years, I developed a mindset that mirrored that of my colleague, Horace Slughorn. While I didn't use my students' success for my own social status, I did get some level of enjoyment at seeing those that struggled with Switching Spells in my classroom become some of the most powerful people in the land. I got to watch Kingsley Shacklebolt, a notoriously gifted student who hated Transfiguration until his fifth year when he finally understood it just in time to get an O on his O.W.L, become the Minister of Magic. Remus Lupin had been a student of mine and it was one of my greatest joys to have him join our staff, even if it was only for a year."

"I got to watch Lily Evans and James Potter grow together and become parents. I then got the opportunity to watch their child become the single most famous wizard in our world, surrounded by equally talented and amazing colleagues. Getting the opportunity to teach the four of you, to guide the saviors of our world, knowing that some of the skills that I taught you, whether it was Transfiguration or simply the nature of being a Gryffindor, has been the greatest honor of my life."

"When I get done with a school year, I am often tired. But after a few weeks, I am once again energized by the thought of new students coming to Hogwarts, potential incarnate in the form of dozens of eleven-year-old students. That kind of potential doesn't exist anywhere but in a school and on the day when I consider giving it all up, it's that thought that keeps me coming back to it, even after all these years."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville stood there, stunned, staring at their former Professor as she spoke. It was the most she had ever spoken about her life and certainly the most that anyone outside of Harry had likely heard about her thoughts on education.

"Did that answer your question, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, yes, ma'am," Hermione replied. Considering the fact that every single person who outranked Hermione at the Ministry was a man, Minerva McGonagall was likely the only person in the world who Hermione would still call ma'am, a thought that made Harry chuckle, which earned him a knowing look from Hermione.

Just then, Harry turned back to Neville, only to notice that another person had joined their circle. Standing there with her arm behind Neville's back, her head nestled against his shoulder, was none other than Luna Lovegood, who looked quite comfortable attached to Neville's side.

"Oi! When the hell did this happen?" Ron asked, rather effectively voicing Harry's thoughts.

"Couple months ago," Neville replied casually. "I'd had a thing for her since school but the timing never seemed right. I joined the Aurors, then she ran off to India. She came back just as I started at Hogwarts and then left for Argentina just before I became Head of House. Once she returned in January, we started talking again and decided to make a go of it."

They had always seemed destined to be around each other. Ginny had latched herself onto Harry for years while Ron and Hermione circled each other, leaving Harry, Neville, and Luna to sort themselves out. Despite his brief flings with Cho and Ginny, Harry had never really had much time for any sort of relationship.

Besides, he was awful at them anyway.

But Neville and Luna had always been around each other, even after Harry, Ron, and Hermione left Hogwarts. Luna seemed to fit perfectly next to Neville, which made Harry incredibly happy. Both Luna and Neville had suffered a great deal during the war, but they had spent most of that time together. Harry was glad that, after all these years, they seemed to have finally found each other.

Despite the intense pressure of the last few weeks, Harry found himself enjoying the evening. It was likely due to the fact that Ron had charmed Harry's glass so that it never ran out, something that Harry hadn't realized until he had attempted to beat George in a race to finish their drinks. For a moment, Harry had been shocked when George had finished his mug so quickly.

That was until he pulled the glass back down and it was still completely full, a moment that saw the entire bar burst into tears of laughter as Harry was told that he likely just downed two mugs of ale in his desperate attempt to beat George.

By two in the morning, Harry was thoroughly drunk as Hermione told him that it was time to leave the bar. For a moment, Harry had attempted to protest until he was told that Rosmerta was closing the bar and that they were going back to Neville's home in Hogsmeade.

Just over a year earlier, Neville had built a massive home on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. The house was four stories tall and about as garish as anything that existed in the wizarding world. Inside, the house was nearly floor to ceiling marble, giving a person the sensation that they were walking into a palace.

When someone asked him where he got the money, he revealed that his parents had put quite a bit of money away for him. Once he turned seventeen, the money was deposited into his Gringotts account and he suddenly found himself independently wealthy, the result of nearly twenty-five years of interest. It was a sad reminder of the fate that had befallen Frank and Alice Longbottom, but Neville had said that he knew they would have wanted him to live his best life. With that money, he had been able to build the house without accruing any debt, meaning that he could live off his Hogwarts salary forever.

A smaller group of people remained at Neville's apartment until nearly six in the morning. George held court in the center of the room for a large portion of that time, telling increasingly outlandish stories about Harry's life. Of course, one in every four of those stories were true, so George created a drinking game out of it.

At the end of the story, everyone in the room voted whether it was true or not. Everyone who was wrong had to drink. If more than half of the room was right, then Harry had to drink as well. It was a hilarious game, mostly due to the fact that Harry hardly ended up drinking at all. The group of people guessing, Lee, Alicia, Angelina, Oliver, and Katie, had been a few years older than Harry in school, so they hadn't had much chance to hear some of these stories. In addition, George had brought some oldies from when Harry had spent his summers at The Burrow and Grimmauld Place, throwing in the events of the Quidditch World Cup for the final kicker.

It was only when Oliver fell asleep while sitting on the arm of Neville's couch, causing him to collapse to the floor, that everyone decided it was probably a good idea to go home. Harry stood at Neville's front door and thanked everyone who had remained behind to the very end for coming before he turned to Ron and Neville.

"You two are mental," Harry said, his head already pounding. Despite the fact that he could already feel a hangover coming on, he knew that he would remember this night for a long time, especially if things got as bad as he expected.

"When you throw a party for the Chosen One, you've got to go big," Neville replied with a grin.

Harry embraced both Ron and Neville before Hermione took him by the arm. While she had been drinking, she was far more sober than Harry. She told Ron and Neville that she was going to make sure that Harry got home.

She lied.

Instead, Hermione turned and in a second, Harry found himself in Hermione's bathroom.

"What are we doing here?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Well, the party was Ron and Neville's gift to you," Hermione said as she grabbed Harry by the arm, turning him back to face her. "This is mine."

Suddenly, Hermione put both of her hands on Harry's chest and pushed, causing him to stumble backwards into the shower, which had been magically charmed to turn on at just the perfect temperature whenever someone stepped in. Hermione took her wand in her hand and aimed it at the showerhead before giving her wand a quick twist at the wrist. Immediately, the temperature of the water began to climb. It wasn't so hot that it burned but within just a few seconds, all the glass surfaces in the room began to fog up.

That fog built up so quickly that Harry didn't even see Hermione join him in the shower. Instead, he suddenly felt Hermione pulling his glasses away from his face. For a moment, Harry wasn't certain what was going on.

Then, he felt her lean towards him, her perfect ass suddenly grinding up against him. Immediately, Harry's hands began to wander against the smooth fabric of her dress. If he thought it had clung to her body before, that was nothing compared to when it was wet, the damp material becoming almost a second skin.

Hermione leaned back against him, her head collapsed onto his shoulder as Harry's hands reached her breasts, causing her to moan in delight. Harry had been patient all night, even if he had forgotten Hermione's words for part of the night. But now that he had her, patience was no longer on his mind.

Harry's left hand plunged under the fabric of her dress, grabbing her breast, just as his other hand worked down between her legs. That was when Harry realized that Hermione wasn't wearing any underwear.

"Were you like this all night?" Harry growled as his fingers quickly found their rhythm between her legs.

"Yes," Hermione hissed as her knees began to buckle. "I changed at the Ministry and put them in my purse then."

"You were walking around the Ministry without panties on?" Harry said as he buried a finger inside Hermione, causing her to moan loudly. Hermione wasn't a particularly loud lover, but she was vocal enough to let Harry know what she liked.

This was definitely something she liked.

"Y-yes...I thought about fucking you in your office, b-but I decided to make you wait."

That was all it took. With a single motion, Harry grabbed Hermione by the arms and pushed her up against the glass of the sliding shower door as he quickly undid his belt and button, letting his pants drop to the floor of the shower. Harry took the bottom part of Hermione's dress and flipped it up, revealing her perfect, bare ass.

Harry placed a foot between Hermione's legs and tapped out. Immediately, Hermione spread her legs just a bit further and without a moment's hesitation, Harry grabbed around her stomach before thrusting inside of her. This time, that did cause her to scream as Harry pounded into her again and again and again. With each slapping thrust, Hermione's knee began to buckle, causing Harry to grab her by the arms and pull her back towards him, quite literally keeping her standing while he fucked her.

Hermione came first, a shuttering display that eventually forced her to the ground as she cried out with pleasure. Harry wasted no time removing the rest of his clothing before he too dropped to the ground, letting Hermione climb on top of him as she pulled her dress of her head, leaving her breasts to bounce in front of his face as she rode him.

It didn't take long for Harry to finish after that and within just a few minutes, the pair of them laid on the floor of the shower, each of them exhausted but perfectly satisfied with the thorough fucking they had given to the other. After a quick shower, they climbed into bed together, where Harry found himself ready for Round Two, a quick missionary session that ended with Hermione shuttering as Harry came inside her. Thankfully, Hermione knew a few quick spells that would take care of that before it turned into anything more permanent.

An hour later, having watched the sun come up out Hermione's bedroom window, they lay in bed under a blanket, not a single article of clothing separating the other. As Harry closed his eyes, he could feel every inch of her skin up against his, a sensation that he never grew tired of. Eventually, Harry fell asleep sometime around eight in the morning, having had one of the most spectacularly pleasant nights of his life.

When he awoke, he could tell that she was already awake. He looked over at the clock next to her bed and saw that it was well after one in the afternoon, the sun almost as high in the sky as it would get. Looking back to where Hermione lay, he saw that she was staring right at him.

Maybe through him was the more appropriate word. He often felt that he had the ability to read her thoughts, just as she could read his. For awhile, Harry had thought that simply wasn't possible, but considering what he had learned from Legion, Harry wondered if there weren't some parts of magic that they didn't know everything about.

"What's on your mind?" Harry asked.

"You were right that we should have told Ron," Hermione whispered, her eyes darting across the room as she spoke. "We should do it now."

"Why now? Why not wait until we've dealt with Legion?"

"What happens if something happens to you or me or Ron before we can do that?"

"Nothing is going to happen to you," Harry said, knowing that it was a statement that he couldn't back up. Immediately, Hermione sat up, her eyes sharp as she snapped back at Harry.

"You have spent weeks telling me that there's nothing you can do to stop him," Hermione said scathingly. "Is that true?"

Harry wanted to tell her that everything would be fine. He wanted to lie. But she was and always would be smarter than he was. She knew the truth.

"Yes, it is true."

"Then I'm tired of living this lie, Harry," Hermione said suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I am tired of ducking out of parties early and I'm tired of lying to our friends about where we've been. We've practically been dating for six years now. Hell, that's what everyone thinks already."

Harry's train of thought derailed momentarily.

"What are you saying?" Harry asked. He thought he knew Hermione's mind. He thought he knew where she was going to go next, but he wanted to hear her say it.

"I want you and I to tell everyone what we've been doing. I want you and I to be honest with our friends and family. I want to stop hiding the fact that I've been spending almost all of my free time. But most of all, I want to stop hiding from you."

"Hiding from me?"

Hermione rolled over suddenly and grabbed the robe on her side of the bed, wrapping it around her as she paced the room. It was rare that Hermione took the time to think about her words in the moment. Usually, she had planned out what she was going to say for days, weeks, maybe even months at a time before they came out of her mouth.

This was Hermione Granger unfiltered, flying off the cuff, simply saying what she truly felt.

And it terrified Harry. It was in these moments, these exceedingly rare moments of spontaneity, that Harry lost the ability to predict what she would do. Most of the time, it ended up working out well for him, like it had last night in the shower. But there was also the possibility that this was her way of finally getting out of this relationship.

"I'm going to say something," she finally said, although Harry could barely hear her. "I am going to say something and I want you to listen to everything I have to say before you respond."

"Alright?"

Hermione moved to the window, staring out over the city, facing away from Harry. It was as if she was suddenly afraid to face him.

"You and I have been doing this for a long time, Harry, and for a long time, we've both told ourselves that it was just part of the deal that we established. We used each other to get off and, while we were still friends, there was nothing more to it than that."

"But we've been lying. Well, I think we've been lying. I know I've been lying. Because for years, it has been more than that. For awhile, you would just come over and we would have sex and then you would leave. Then, you started to stay the night. Then, we started doing dinner. Then, I convinced you to take me dancing and yes, we both know that I was using it as some strange version of foreplay, but it was also something that I enjoyed and that you indulged in, not because you wanted to sleep with me, which you already knew was coming, but because you wanted to make me happy."

"And you do make me happy. I am happiest when you're around. I look forward to our dates, which is exactly what they are, even if we never called them that. I look forward to spending time with you. I'm tired of dancing around the fact that I fell in love with you years ago. I just want to spend my time with you. Before I say anything more, I need to know if you feel the same way."

Hermione turned back to Harry, tears streaming down her face. She was frightened. She was honestly frightened over what Harry might say to her. Harry didn't even have to think.

He looked up at her and was about to answer before he noticed the look on her face was changed. She was still frightened but she was no longer looking at him. Rolling over, Harry turned and saw the thing that had kept him awake standing in the doorway.

His face was bright red, his hands balled into fists that were so tight that Harry worried they might start bleeding. But it was Ron Weasley's face that was the most frightening. In that moment, Harry looked at Ron and saw a broken man, a man who had been lied to by his best friends for years. Now, that desperation and grief appeared plain as day across Ron's face.

"He was right," Ron whispered before storming from the room. Immediately, Harry grabbed the robe that he kept in Hermione's room and threw it over his shoulders before racing down the stairs, following the sounds of the slamming doors out into the street.

"Ron!" Harry shouted, desperate to explain himself. When Ron turned, he did not give Harry that chance.

"You've been lying to me for years," he growled. "Years."

"Ron, let me explain-"

"Why would I let you explain?" Ron barked, cutting Harry off. "What is there to explain? You fucked my girlfriend, lied to me about it, and then kept doing it for years without ever telling me! What is there to explain, you cheating fuck?"

"I-I…" Harry stammered before falling silent. What was the point in protesting? Ron was right.

"How could you?" Ron said at barely more than a whisper. Suddenly, Harry found that he rather wished Ron would go back to yelling at him. He could deal with the anger far better than the disappointment.

"How could you do this? Listen, I know that I'm not perfect. I know that I left the two of you. But in the ten years since then, I think I've become a better man. I'd like to think that, anyway. I'd like to think I've become more understanding, at the very least, less jealous."

"Yet you lied to me for years. You lied to me and to my family, the family that adopted you. And you know what's the worst part? If you had told me right off, I bet things would be fine now. I would have been pissed, sure. I doubt that Hermione and I would have survived long-term, although I honestly doubt that had anything to do with you in the first place. But after a few years, I probably would have forgiven you and we would have moved on."

"But not only did you fuck my girlfriend, who was also your best friend, but you lied to me about it. Then, you did it again the very same night that she broke up with me. The two of you have been doing this shit behind everyone's backs for years. To be honest, I thought the two of you were dating and were just too afraid to tell anyone. I was happy for you. I was happy that you found each other."

"Then, some _thing_ in a black suit with a creepy smile breaks into my home, tells me that I've been friends with liars for years and then proceeds to force me to relive every single instance of the two of you shacking up over the last decade! So, not only did you lie to me about Hermione, but now there's some monster out to get me and my family that you didn't even think to tell us about!"

Finally, Ron broke and the tears that he had been fighting back came rolling down his face. Harry turned back over his shoulder to see Hermione standing at the top of the steps to her apartment, having witnessed all of this. When Ron looked up, he saw her standing there.

"I know she's just as much to blame as you are," Ron said, his voice garbled by the tears in his eyes. "I know that but for some reason, this hurts more. I gave up on you more than once and Hermione and I fought over the years. But never once did you go out of your way to hurt me, not even when I went out of my way to hurt you. And now, this."

Ron opened his mouth as if to say more. But nothing more came. Instead, he simply turned and marched down the street before disappearing into an alley about half a block down. Shortly after that, Harry heard a small POP! and he was left alone in the street.

Harry turned back to Hermione, who stood on the top step, a look of desperation on her face. More than anything, Harry wanted to climb up those stairs and tell her that he loved her and that everything would be alright, some day.

But before he could do that, a piece of parchment suddenly fell from the sky. Harry quickly grabbed it and unraveled it.

_Harry,_

_We need you to go to this address._

_6 Oleander Lane  
Little Whinging, Surrey_

_Susan Finch-Fletchley_

Harry recognized that address. Without saying a word to Hermione, Harry raced back inside the house, followed by Hermione, who shouted questions up the stairs. Harry told her to get dressed before doing the same. Once they were both ready, Harry grabbed Hermione by the waist and Disapparated, landing in an alley just a few doors down from 6 Oleander Lane.

Harry and Hermione quickly made sure they were ready for public viewing and then stepped out of the alley. Moments later, they were greeted by Susan, who was organizing the crew of Junior Aurors on the scene under the direction of Collin Law, the Senior Auror who had been on call over the weekend.

"What happened?"

"The murderer is back. At least, that's what it looks like from our view," Susan replied. "The only thing is that these are Muggles. Why change his M.O. now?"

"Clear everyone out of the house," Harry said, his voice stilted as he tried to keep in control.

"Harry, what is it?" Hermione asked.

"Susan, get everyone clear," Harry repeated, ignoring Hermione's question.

"Harry, what is going on?"

Again, Harry ignored Hermione, which caused her to grab Harry by the arm and turn her towards him.

"Harry!"

Harry did everything in his power to relay that he would tell her once he was inside. Unfortunately, the incident with Ron seemed to have sapped their ability to read each other and Hermione stared at him, clearly expecting him to answer her.

"This is the home of Dudley Dursley."

Hermione immediately released Harry, a look of horror on her face. She now knew the same thing that Harry knew. This was Legion. A month away had convinced everyone that they were safe and now, Legion was back and he was done targeting imposters and lookalikes. Now, he was going after Harry's family.

Thankfully, Harry had managed to keep the names of his Muggle family out of most of the public record. That meant that no one else seemed to truly understand the significance of what Harry had said, although Harry knew that it was only a matter of time. Soon enough, they would realize that it was Harry's cousin who was likely lying dead in this quaint house in Surrey and from there, the questions would only grow.

Susan cleared out the rest of the Aurors, allowing Harry and Hermione to go in alone. Immediately, Harry saw that Legion had dialed up its usual sense of cruelty. In front of the fireplace was a chair with the body of his cousin, former police officer Dudley Dursley. Dudley had been kicked off the force two years earlier for taking bribes. Even after that, Harry had remained in contact with Dudley, albeit not very frequently. Unfortunately, there had been too much history between the two of them over the years.

Now, they would never get the chance work past that. Was that the same fate that would befall his relationship with Ron?

Laying at Dudley's feet was a crowbar which had clearly been used on him repeatedly. But Harry noticed a puddle of blood on the floor that was entirely separated from the blood underneath Dudley. Either a body had been there and had been moved or…

Harry looked up and immediately wished that he hadn't. Pinned to the ceiling were the bodies of Vanessa and Daisy Dursley, Dudley's wife and six-year-old daughter. Legion had conjured ropes that tied to the corner of the room, suspending them over twelve feet in the air. A quick look told Harry that each of them had at least a dozen knives sticking out of their bodies, including one that went straight through Vanessa's right eye.

Harry collapsed onto the couch, his feet no longer able to hold him up. Hermione joined Harry as they both sat and stared at his cousin's mutilated body. Harry had known that Legion was a monster. Its very nature told Harry all he needed to know about it. But this was something beyond any horror that he could have imagined. Dudley had clearly been tied up and forced to watch as Legion repeatedly threw knives at his wife and daughter. Legion had even missed intentionally as more than twenty knives were buried in the ceiling.

Eventually, they died from their wounds. Only then had Legion taken the crowbar to Dudley, hitting him enough times that he would either bleed out or die from internal injuries. But Harry imagined that Dudley had sat there for hours, simply staring at the ceiling, begging for death. Even now, Dudley's head leaned back and stared at the bodies of his wife and daughter.

"Sir, we found a security system," Susan shouted from the other room.

Trust Dudley to have a security system. While it wouldn't help them in their search, it might tell Harry if he had taken to using another form. Harry followed the sound of Susan's voice into the front office where she stood behind one of the Rookie Aurors, who was working on the computer in Dudley's office.

"You know how to use that thing?" Harry asked.

"I was Muggleborn," the woman answered. "Plus, his password was 1234. It's the first one everyone guesses."

"Right. Show me the footage."

In just a few clicks, the video of the attack was up on the screen. A few minutes earlier, Harry couldn't have imagined that his day could have gotten worse. That was until he was his own reflection in the video, stringing Vanessa and Daisy to the ceiling and torturing Dudley with a crowbar, beating him until he was almost dead.

"What the fuck?" the Rookie Auror said as she turned back to Susan.

"Susan, I can explain…"

"Sir, I'll need your wand," Susan said, her wand already drawn and aimed directly at Harry's chest.

"Susan, you know that this-"

"What I know is what I saw, sir, and until we get this figured out, I am placing you under arrest."


	14. Restricted

Within minutes, Harry found himself in one of the few places he never thought he would: the holding cells at the Ministry of Magic. Hidden away in the lower levels of the Ministry were roughly a dozen magic-proof cells. They were simple rooms with a glass wall that had been charmed to prevent all magic from being cast around it keeping the prisoners inside.

Initially, Harry was surrounded by guards, nearly a dozen Aurors lining the halls for a single prisoner. Hours later, the number began to dwindle until sometime that evening when only four Hit Wizards remained outside his cell. Time passed slowly into the night and into the next day. The guards outside his cell changed and yet no one came for him.

Three days or there about. That's how long Harry waited inside that cell before someone came to visit. But it wasn't Hermione, the one person that he wanted to see more than anyone else. Instead, it was one of his colleagues, his protege.

"Good evening, sir," Elaina Andrews said as she stood on the other side of the glass.

"Elaina? What the hell is happening?" Harry asked.

"Well, we've spent the last three days examining every piece of evidence at the home of Dudley Dursley. According to the Muggle police, there was evidence of four people in that home: Dudley, Vanessa, Daisy...and you. For two days, the Aurors searched for a way to prove that you were framed, but we found nothing. We were all set to condemn you when Hermione Granger stepped forward with some more information."

The look on Elaina's face worried Harry. Typically, she did a good job of restraining herself, keeping her emotions in check. At the moment, she was not succeeding. Something was clearly bothering her.

"More information?" Harry asked. "What do you mean?"

"She had an alibi for you, an iron clad one as it turned out," Elaina replied. "Turns out that the Head of the DMLE and the Head Auror have been sleeping with each other for years."

Hermione had told everyone. After two days, and knowing that the Aurors were ready to begin prosecuting Harry, she must have come forward. Immediately, Harry felt a wave of shame pass over him, knowing that by not coming forward, Harry had been complicit in risking Hermione's career. Harry would survive if he was forced to resign, but for Hermione, working at the Ministry was arguably the thing she would be most proud of in her life. Certainly, she would always be proud of helping Harry take down Riddle, but for the populace, that would always be largely Harry's achievement, even if that narrative wasn't quite true.

But, for the general population, the question wasn't if Hermione Granger would become the Minister of Magic, but when. When she did, she would become only the second Muggleborn Minister of Magic and likely one of the youngest. Now, all of that could be in jeopardy because they had tried to keep their relationship a secret.

"Of course, nothing about your relationship was improper prior to your promotions. But for the last two months, the two of you have been operating as the Head of the DMLE and the Head Auror without informing the Minister of Magic that there was a massive conflict of interest there."

The look on Elaina's face was almost unbearable. The disappointment on her face was evident as was the hurt. Over their years together, Elaina had looked to Harry as her mentor, the person who would be responsible for training her and molding her into something more than what she was. Now, her hero and her boss had proven to be no better than anyone else.

It was well known that Aurors operated under different rules than the rest of the Ministry. Dating other Aurors was discouraged and those that did were intentionally separated. But dating other members of the Ministry leadership was even more strongly discouraged because of the myriad of possibilities for conflicts of interest. The Head Auror dating the Head of the DMLE was about as great a conflict of interest as there could be and doing it secretly was arguably grounds for immediate removal.

"As a result, both you and Miss Granger were temporarily suspended. After a day of reviewing the files that the two of you have worked on, it was determined that no obvious conflicts had occurred. Miss Granger was restored to her position, albeit with several restrictions placed on her by the Minister of Magic. In addition, we were able to determine that you were likely not the murderer in the case of Dudley Dursley."

"So I'm being released?" Harry asked.

"You are," Elaina confirmed and with a wave of her wand, the glass between them slid away. "However, that same review that exonerated Miss Granger revealed a number of issues with the reports that you had filed on the murders, especially after other information was revealed.

"Other information? What other information?" Harry asked. Most of the information regarding Legion, which had to be what she was talking about, had been intentionally left out of his reports. There was nothing in his report that could conflict with the public record, because it wasn't in the public record.

Then, realization hit him.

"You told him. You told Kingsley about Legion."

"You hid this information from the public when they had every right to know what was going on," Elaina bit back.

"That wasn't your decision to make."

"You made it my decision for me when you decided to lie to all of us," Elaina snapped. "You don't get to lecture me on making decisions, Harry."

"What did Kingsley say?" Harry asked as he stepped out of the cell. "What did he say when you told him about the monster?"

"He...The Minister of Magic told me that he would talk to you about it."

"When was that?" Harry said, challenging her further.

"Fourteen hours ago."

"Fourteen hours and he hasn't been down here once. You know what that means, right?" Harry asked. "That means that he agrees with my sentiment that there is no need to terrify everyone when there's nothing they can do about it!"

"Well, you don't need to worry about that for the time being," Elaina clapped back. "Your suspension has been upheld by the Ministry. I'm here to escort you out of the building."

"Excuse me?"

"While the Minister may not agree with telling the public, Minister Shacklebolt was disappointed to learn that you had been keeping such pertinent information from him. He has ordered that you be removed from the building until a review can be held to determine whether or not you broke any laws by failing to reveal that information to him."

Harry couldn't believe it. He could understand Kingsley being upset with him for not sharing more about Legion, but how could he believe that suspending Harry would help the problem?

Harry looked at Elaina who, despite the fact that she was clearly disappointed in Harry, did not appear to be enjoying the fact that this task had come to her.

"Who is replacing me?"

"Technically, no one," Elaina replied. "The Minister has not appointed a new Head Auror as you haven't been removed, just suspended indefinitely. For the time being, Arthur Weasley will oversee the Aurors and Paul Dawlish has been elevated to Interim Senior Auror-in-Charge."

"Dawlish, great," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Well, let's hope the Ministry doesn't burn down before I'm reinstated. I mean, he's a good Auror but he's not exactly Head Auror material."

"Harry-"

"Don't bother," Harry snapped. "I understand you being frustrated with my decision. But you know me and you know that I make decisions for good reasons."

"I know that you try," Elaina replied, "but we're all human and we all fail sometimes. Legion clearly has you frightened and you weren't making good decisions."

"That's your opinion. How long have you been a Senior Auror again?"

"I've worked for you long enough to know when something has gotten into your head," Elaina shot back, not exactly answering the question. "Legion is going to break you if you aren't careful. Because the Harry that I know is the one who taught me that the chain of command matters less than doing the right thing. The chain of command matters less than having our own thoughts and acting on those thoughts. How many times did you tell me to do something, even if it meant having to apologize for it later, because it felt right in my gut?"

"Six months ago, if I had done this, you would have realized that I was doing it to protect you and you would have thanked me for it. But now, Legion has you so worked up about everything all the time that you can't focus on what's in front of you. The Minister agrees with me and that's why he suspended you. You need to figure this out before you come back."

"I've told you how powerful Legion is. It's not as simple as just figuring it out."

"It never is," Elaina replied, "but you are Harry Potter. If there's anyone that can, it's you."

Harry said nothing in response to that. Over the years, Harry had heard that sentiment dozens of times. It did not matter how many times Harry pushed back or implied that he hadn't done the impossible alone, people still seemed to think that he was some kind of miracle worker.

Elaina escorted Harry to the Apparition point, flanked on either side by reporters and photographers. The almost strobe-like flashes were inter-cut by the sounds of dozens of voices layering over each other, meaning that Harry saw and heard nothing before he stepped into the Apparition point.

Since he was no longer an active Ministry employee, and had not received a protective order from the Ministry, Harry could not return to the safe house. He knew that Hermione's house would likely be surrounded by reporters as well and considering what she had just given up to ensure that he didn't spend the rest of his life in jail, he wasn't certain that she wanted to see him at the moment.

Instead, Harry returned to his humble home in the woods for the first time in months. The moment Harry walked through the door, he was greeted with an icy breeze and then the sight of his doppelganger sitting at his kitchen table, a horrible twisted smile plastered across its face.

_"How are you today, Mr. Potter? I have been trying to see you but it seems as if you have been otherwise occupied recently."_

Harry knew that there was nothing that he could do, so he simply ignored the monster sitting at his table. After three days in a cell, all Harry wanted was a shower. Nearly an hour later, Harry stepped out of the bathroom and found that Legion was still there, its eyes locked on Harry as Harry moved from the bathroom to the bedroom and then to the kitchen to get dinner started.

_"You seem stressed. Is there anything I can do to help?"_

This was all a game, Harry reminded himself. All of it, Dudley's death, Ron finding out about him and Hermione, all of it was designed by Legion to inflict punishment.

Unfortunately, it was working.

_"I take it Mr. Weasley reacted poorly to the revelation that you and Miss Granger were intimate with each other?"_

All it took was three sentences to break Harry. Elaina had been right. Legion was already in Harry's head.

"What the hell are you doing? You kill people for their power. Then why tell Ron about us? Why kill my cousin? You get no power out of that."

Legion's smile broke for just a second before it started laughing softly to itself, its smile now expressing genuine joy instead of the horror that it usually portrayed.

_"What else is there to do, Mr. Potter? I will win. I always win. I take no real joy in the outcome of our little game, because the outcome has already been decided. In place of that suspense, I simply make things as miserable for my opponents as possible. In the end, they almost always end up with me begging to kill them. They give up before the match can even be decided. That's what I'm doing to you."_

"You don't know me very well clearly," Harry growled. "I don't beg."

_"You haven't begged. That doesn't mean that you aren't capable of it and soon enough, you will find that it will be easier to beg and suffer no more."_

"Not likely," Harry fired back. "Now, get out of my house."

 _"I will comply with that particular request,"_ Legion said as it stood. _"You'll have a few days' respite, Mr. Potter. Then, I will come for you once more and this time, it won't be some cousin you hate. This time, I'll take someone you care about."_

Harry immediately drew his wand and fired a Cutting Curse at Legion. Not only did Legion deflect the spell without even moving its hands, it disappeared entirely, vanishing before Harry's eyes without a sound.

Harry was likely the most powerful wizard he knew and Hermione the most skilled user of magic he had met. Harry knew more about Dark and defensive magic than most people would learn in several lifetimes and he was, by far, the best duelist in the entire Auror Office, a title that Harry had once proven when one of his trainers had attempted to put Harry in his place by dueling him.

When you've successfully dueled Tom Riddle and Bellatrix Lestrange to a standstill, even as a child, most normal witches and wizards pose little change.

Yet for all that skill in there world, Harry knew that there was nothing, nothing, he could do to slow down Legion's reign of terror. He knew nothing of runes or the kind of ancient magic that could supposedly contain a creature with such power. All Harry could do was hope to keep Hermione, Bill, and (Merlin, help him) Draco Malfoy alive long enough for them to figure out the puzzle that was capturing Legion.

Despite the fact that he hadn't had a good meal in three days, Harry found that he could no longer eat. Instead, he went to his cabinet, pulled out a rather large bottle of Irish Whiskey, removed the stopper, and poured it down his throat until the burn was so great that he couldn't handle it anymore. He coughed up a bit of Whiskey as he collapsed to the floor, tears flowing just as freely as the booze.

Two hours Harry remained on that floor until there was suddenly a knock on the door. In those two hours, Harry had killed nearly three quarters of the bottle, meaning that when he stood to go to the door, it took his three tries.

"Who...who is it?" Harry said, finding that formulating words was even harder than trying to collect his thoughts.

"It's me."

If it had been anyone else, Harry would have told them to go to hell. But, she was different. She had always been different.

"Who did we visit on Christmas Day 1997?"

"We didn't visit anyone intentionally. We went to look for a clue to one of the Horcruxes, found your parents' grave and then ran into Nagini, Riddle's snake, who was posing as Bathilda Bagshot."

"Good enough," Harry replied as he waved his wand, allowing her to open the door, before he collapsed onto his bed, taking a massive pull from the bottle as he did. Most of the information regarding the Horcrux Hunt had come out but for some reason, the time that Harry and Hermione had mostly been left out of the story.

At the time, they had said that they wanted to spare Ron. Now, Harry knew better. There was something special about that time, the time when Hermione showed just how truly dedicated she was to Harry. The time that, whether he knew it or not, he likely fell in love with her.

"How are you doing?" Hermione said as she took a chair from the table and set it next to his bed. Harry tried to look at her but when he saw that there were three of her, thought better of it and stared at the ceiling instead.

"Well, my fucking cousin's dead, not that he was my favorite person anyway, but his wife and daughter certainly didn't deserve that. Legion framed me and made it look like I did, which a fair number of people believed, including some who knew that Legion could change shape. I spent three days in a cell at the end of which my protege tells me that to save my ass, you were forced to reveal some pretty explicit details about our relationship, which leads to you being temporarily suspended and myself indefinitely suspended. Then, to put the icing on the fucking cake, when I get home, Legion is fucking here, taunting me about Ron, who I did not mention now knows that we have been sleeping together since before you two broke up, and Dudley, before telling me that he's going to give me a few days off before he goes after someone I really care about. You know, Hermione, I don't think I've been much worse, now that I think about it."

Hermione sat in silence for a moment before she took the bottle out of Harry's hands and took a large swig herself. However, when she was done with it, she turned around and set it on the table behind her, far out of Harry's reach.

"Yeah, it's not been a great couple of days," Hermione admitted. "I never really could have imagined getting suspended from a job. At least, not for this reason."

"I could definitely imagine getting suspended from a job. But yeah, it probably wouldn't have been for that reason."

"I'm sorry I had to say anything at all."

"I'm not," Harry assured her. "If it was getting suspended or spending the rest of my life in jail, I'll certainly take the suspension. I just wish that it hadn't burned you too."

"It was always going to burn both of us. We knew that what we were doing was technically improper and yet we said nothing. We made that decision. Now, we have to live with it."

"I suppose," Harry replied as he propped himself up against his headboard. "Anyone been bothering you about...us since the news came out?"

Hermione paused for a moment. That pause was all the answer Harry needed.

"Who?"

"About two dozen reporters sent a request for an interview through my office and another dozen at home. According to Ginny, people have been bothering Ron left and right about it though. He's not too happy about that."

"You've been talking to Ginny?"

"She showed up at my house last night about ten," Hermione explained. "Wanted to give me a chance to explain myself before she, and I quote, blew me out of my stockings."

"Yea, sounds like her. What did you say to her?"

"I didn't say much," Hermione admitted. She stood and began pacing the room. Clearly, she was just as worried about this whole situation as he was, though she was doing a much better job of hiding it.

"I told her that you and I had slept together once before Ron and I broke up. I knew that I couldn't go on dating Ron so I broke up with him a week later."

"I'm assuming you left out the part where you immediately came to my apartment."

"She gave me the opportunity to explain myself," Hermione said, a certain firmness in her voice. "I was not about to lie to her, not when we've spent years lying to that family."

"How did she take that?"

"Honestly? She seemed more disappointed that we never told anyone."

"Ron said the same thing," Harry said, "I always knew that he would be upset, but I don't think I ever really grasped that part. He has done a lot over the years to become a more-"

"Understanding?"

"Right, understanding person. If we had told him all of this years ago, he would have been mad, but he would have tried to get beyond it. Instead, we lied to him for eight years, mostly because we were afraid of what he would say."

"We were certainly quite cowardly about the whole thing," Hermione admitted. "Trust me, I'm right there with you. If only we could do it all over again."

"Haven't quite figured out that kind of time travel," Harry said. "I wish I could talk to him about it. I know he doesn't want to and I know that it will likely be some time before he wants to. But with Legion out there, I don't want this to be the last time I talk to him."

"You can't think like that. We've made some decent progress on the runes."

"Really? What do they mean?"

"Oh, we don't know that. We just nailed down when they were written: sometime in the 4th Century."

Harry stared at Hermione, his mind swimming. Still, he was cognizant enough to understand just how little information that was.

"We know when they were made? That's it?"

"It's a start," Hermione replied. "With that, we can narrow down the number of languages that were being spoken or written in Britain at the time and go from there. That might be something you can help us with."

"How?"

"In the Restricted Section at Hogwarts, there are a number of texts that detail languages that have been used for runic transcriptions. Basically, it's a catalog of the possible runes that could be out there. Unfortunately, even graduates need permission to use the Restricted Section at Hogwarts."

"Why are they in the Restricted Section at all?"

"Because about five hundred years ago, someone decided that the magic that you could learn from these runes was too unstable. Plus, it was encouraging people to go learn more about Muggles and that's never a good thing, right?" Hermione said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Anyway, the Headmaster at the time banned the books and no one has really done anything to much about them."

Unfortunately, that sounded like something that still could be done today. While people like Hermione Granger had done great things for relations between Muggleborn witches and wizards and those born into the wizarding world, the same couldn't be said for the Muggles themselves. Even those that believed that Muggleborn magical people weren't "all that bad" would occasionally express beliefs about Muggles that sounded like something out of a 1940s German propaganda pamphlet. Those beliefs were certainly waning but, try as they might, the Ministry had not been able to remove them entirely.

"I suppose I can go and talk to McGonagall," Harry replied. "Hopefully she hasn't fallen into the camp that believes that I murdered my cousin. What will you be doing in the meantime?"

"My job, Harry," Hermione said. "The public doesn't know about Legion and that's the way Kingsley wants it to stay for the time being. I was spending at least an hour a day around the Arch. Now, I won't be able to go anywhere near it until we have something actionable."

"You mean to tell me that I have to rely on Bill for this?"

"No," Hermione said, suddenly unwilling to meet Harry's gaze. "I'm telling you that you have to rely on Malfoy. Bill has been barred from the Ministry as well."

Preventing Hermione, a public figure like none other at the Ministry, from accessing a part of the Ministry known only for its secrets made sense, especially in a heightened climate like today. But barring Bill Weasley, who no one in the media was paying any attention to, was asinine.

"Malfoy? That's the only person we have working on this now?"

"Kingsley knows about Legion, Harry. I told him everything."

"And this is how he responds? By preventing the two people who could actually do something about it from actually doing anything?"

"No. He ordered almost the entire Department of Mysteries be reassigned to the Arch under Malfoy's orders. It's more resources than we ever could have hoped for."

"Great. We got the manpower we need at the expense of having someone that we actually trust down there," Harry barked, unable to lie down anymore. Despite the copious amount of alcohol still flowing through his veins, Harry stood and stumbled back and forth across his bedroom, fuming at the stupidity of his Minister of Magic, a man who Harry had once thought to be one of the brightest, most formidable men he had ever met.

"I'm not particularly happy with it either, but it is the way it is. This is our lesson, Harry, our reminder that we can't deal with problems like we did in the old days."

"You mean that we can't deal with them at all?"

"No, I mean that we can't deal with them alone," Hermione countered. "Why didn't we go to Kingsley with this? We never even had that conversation. As the Head Auror and the Head of the DMLE, we were made aware of the fact that a potentially immortal monster of untold magical power had just been set loose and we never once considered telling Kingsley about it. Why?"

Harry considered Hermione's question for a moment before realizing that he didn't have an answer. Instead, he simply shrugged at her, unsure of what to say.

"I don't know either," Hermione admitted, "but I think we both need to take some time to reassess ourselves. We've spent years lying to our friends and our family. We chose to deal with this by ourselves instead of enlisting the entire Ministry of Magic to help us. Why would we do that?"

"Well, that I do know the answer to."

"Really?"

"Of course," Harry replied. "It's because we don't trust anyone else as much as we trust each other. Because you and me and Ron went toe-to-toe with the greatest Dark wizard our world has ever seen and we won, despite the Ministry of Magic, not because of it. Even still, I would trust you over the Ministry of Magic any day."

"Harry, I'm the Head of the DMLE. You are the Head Auror. We are the Ministry of Magic."

"I guess. But if I have a choice between the entire Auror Office, the entire DMLE, the Wizengamot, or you, I pick you every single time."

"I know," Hermione said as an alarm went off on Hermione's watch. "I have to go back to the Ministry."

Hermione stood and made her way over to Harry, wrapping her arms around him tight.

"Go to Hogwarts and see if McGonagall will let you into the Restricted Section. Actually, get some rest and sober up a bit and then go tomorrow."

"I actually figured that out all on my own, thanks," Harry replied, which earned him a dig in the ribs.

"Git," Hermione muttered into his chest as she held on. "Just hang in there. We'll figure this out, we'll stop Legion, and then you can come back to the Ministry. It will be like nothing ever happened."

"Except that Ron will never talk to us again."

"Well, there is that," Hermione admitted before leaning up and kissing him lightly. "I'll see you in a couple of days."

"Why that long?"

"I can't guarantee that Dawlish isn't having me followed. It doesn't look particularly good if I'm visiting the suspended Head Auror while he is under active investigation from my office."

Harry had to admit that made a certain amount of sense.

"Fine," Harry said. "Be careful."

"I will," Hermione said with a sad smile. "Get some rest."

Unfortunately, rest was not something that Harry would come by easily, even after downing an entire bottle of whiskey. After sending a letter off to McGonagall, Harry tried to lie down and get some sleep, only to spend hours staring at the ceiling. Even when he did fall asleep, he slept in fits and starts, each moment punctuated by terrible nightmares.

When Harry finally awoke at nearly eleven the next day, he found a letter sitting on top of his table, confirming a noon meeting with the Headmistress. Unfortunately, Harry couldn't simply Apparate down to the school which meant that Harry immediately jumped out of bed, got dressed, and started his march down to the castle for the first time in nearly five years.

In the past, every so often, Harry would be invited back to Hogwarts by one of the Professors to be a guest lecturer. However, as Harry's duties within the Auror Office had increased over the years, the amount of time he could spend visiting the school had dwindled to the point where he rarely went at all and then stopped accepting the invitation altogether. The last time he had even received an invite had been nearly two years earlier and Harry had rejected the notice without a second thought.

To be honest, Harry wasn't certain why he rejected the offers. Harry repeatedly expressed his frustration with the Auror Office. If it wasn't for the fact that he knew they were doing good work, Harry would have likely left the Aurors years earlier. When he had been doing his lectures at Hogwarts, they had provided a great distraction from his regular day-to-day life.

If Harry had to guess why he stopped going, it likely would have stemmed from an experience that he had the last time he had gone, just a little over five years earlier. Harry had been invited by Professor Jonathan Bell to speak for his seventh year class on the subject of the Second Wizarding War. Bell, who was the uncle of his former teammate Katie, had been hired only a few weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts and remained at Hogwarts to this day, a far cry from the carousel of pretenders and fools that had filled the position during Harry's time at school.

Harry had given this specific talk more than once at Bell's request. At the end of Seventh Year, NEWT Defense Against the Dark Arts students spent the last month of their final term learning about the causes and contributing factors involved in the Second Wizarding War. Every year, Bell asked someone involved with the war to come and speak to the class, giving them a view of the war from someone who actually lived it. While the students may have been alive when it happened, they certainly weren't on the front lines at the time.

Three times, Harry had given this speech. But on the fifth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, he had an eye opening experience. As Harry was talking about the events the precipitated the true beginning of the war, he mentioned the death of Albus Dumbledore. After a few seconds, Harry noticed that a girl in the back of the class raised her hand.

"Sir, I have a question," she asked timidly.

"Sir is what my Aurors call me," Harry replied with a warm smile. "What is your question?"

"We learned about how Lord Voldemort took over the Ministry on The Dark Day. But there isn't much record of what you were doing until you showed up at Gringotts in May, the day before The Battle of Hogwarts."

Harry had heard that line of thinking before and he never liked where it went.

"I don't hear a question," Harry replied.

"What were you doing, sir? For nearly ten months, you, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley disappeared off the map. Meanwhile, witches and wizards of all kinds were being hunted, rounded up, and imprisoned or even killed."

More than likely this girl had some family that died during the War. Unfortunately, everyone knew someone that had died and it wasn't uncommon for those people to lash out at Harry. But what made Harry concerned was that the girl looked familiar for some reason.

"What is your name?" Harry asked.

"Sophia Scrimgeour."

Sophia Scrimgeour, daughter of the former Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, a man that was murdered because he refused to give up Harry's location. There was an alternate universe where Scrimgeour gave Harry up and in that universe, Scrimgeour was almost assuredly alive.

Sophia would have been twelve when her father was murdered to protect a boy, an orphan who just so happened to be the most famous wizard in the world. How could she be expected to understand that?

"Sophia, I knew your father. I didn't often agree with him, but he was a good man."

"I know. I've read all about The Golden Trio and all about how you spent months searching for Horcruxes. I've read how you fled the Weasley home on The Dark Day and except for a few rumored appearances here and there, including at the Ministry of Magic itself, no one sees you for almost an entire year. In that time, the Second Wizarding War claimed eighty-four people, not to mention the Fifty that fell at The Battle of Hogwarts."

At this point, Professor Bell tried to steer the conversation to something else, anything else.

"Miss Scrimgeour, this line of questioning-"

"Let her finish," Harry said sadly before motioning to Sophia. "Continue."

"In total, the war took the lives of almost two hundred people, roughly one hundred and twenty of which were civilians, people that had no business fighting a war. But you and your friends. You lived to the end of the war. You, a boy who possessed only slightly above average skills at the time, while my father, who had been the Head Auror for years and was considered one of the most gifted wizards of his time, was killed."

It was clear that Sophia Scrimgeour had waited a long time for this day. Finally, she had the opportunity to confront The Boy Who Lived about why he had survived instead of her father who, to her point, was undoubtedly a better wizard than Harry at the time of his death.

"I wish I had better answers for you," Harry admitted as he leaned against the desk at the front of the room. "The truth is that Albus Dumbledore had spent the previous year teaching me how to recognize Riddle's Horcruxes for what they were. But we didn't know where most of them were. We couldn't risk asking for help, especially not to anyone that we knew would help us, without putting them at great risk."

"Now, I was your age when the events of the Dark Day occurred. Imagine that later today, The Ministry is overrun by dark wizards. Everyone you know and love is at risk. But you have been tasked with finding the only objects in the world that can destroy their leader. You can't ask for help because communications are being tracked and you have been deemed the enemy by the newly installed Ministry of Magic."

Harry paced between the rows of desks as he spoke, his eyes closed as he imagined what he saw. They weren't difficult memories to recall. In fact, Harry rarely went a day without thinking of the Hunt.

"You only have the most basic amount of information and you have no support. What do you do? Initially, you hide. You make sure that you're safe and you do what research you can with the resources you have. For months, you hope and pray for a lead, something that will guide you in the right direction. But every answer comes with another problem, another question. You lose hope. Some of you may even choose to abandon the quest altogether and you wouldn't be wrong to do so."

"After months of struggling, you have collected most of the pieces but you know that the only one that is left is likely in the enemy's stronghold, a place of profound magic. It is likely secure and your presence will almost certainly lead to a full scale battle. What do you do? That was the question on my mind every day that we were out there."

Harry turned to Sophia, who glared at him with a dark, wizened look that reminded Harry of her father.

"I do wish I had better answers for you. The truth of the matter is that we did the best we could with the resources we had. The three of us fought, others and each other. We lost hope. We spent days doing nothing because there was nothing to be done. I know that doesn't bring your father back and it certainly doesn't disprove your point about him being a better wizard that I was."

"But I would ask you to remember this. You lost your father, just as I lost both of my parents. I'm sure that there are others in this room who lost family or, at the very least, know someone who lost family. When we ran, we ran knowing that we were putting every person we loved at risk. I knew that the only way that Hermione and Ron were ever going to see their families again was by defeating Tom Riddle.

"But not everyone came out the other side. Ron's brother, Fred, was killed in the Battle of Hogwarts. My godson lost both of his parents that night. We all lost someone. There are a dozen different things that I would change about that year of my life if I was given the chance to do it over again. Ultimately, I have to live with my choices, knowing that I did the best I could. If your father was here, he would say the same thing."

Sophia nodded at Harry silently. He wasn't certain if he made her understand what it was like to be him during the war, but he hoped that she understood the gravity of the decisions that he was forced to make.

In either case, Harry decided not to go back the next year when he was once again invited by Professor Bell. The year after, he rejected Professor Bell again and every year after. Finally, Professor Bell seemed to have gotten the hint that something about that particular day soured Harry on the idea of reliving those days, especially for children that were getting further and further removed from the war.

Harry was not above being questioned. He questioned himself every day. But he was above being forced to relive all those terrible moments and all of those impossible choices, especially by someone who had no understanding of what the war was like.

Harry's line of thought broke as he reached the exterior gate of the castle. Slipping inside, Harry used the entrance closest to the Quidditch Pitch to enter the castle. As expected, the moment that Harry stepped foot inside the castle, all eyes focused on him despite the fact that there were no students in the castle. Still, every painting and every staff member that Harry walked passed created a wave of attention with Harry at its center. All the way from the Entrance Hall to the gargoyle outside the Headmaster's Office, people stopped and stared, often whispering to each other. Of course, with the recent accusation that Harry had killed his cousin, there was more to whisper about than normal.

Thankfully, the gargoyle greeted Harry and then moved aside, giving him access to McGonagall's office and allowing him to escape the gaze of the eyes that had been following him from the moment he had stepped foot inside the castle. Of course, the moment Harry stepped inside the Headmaster's Office, most of the other paintings suddenly had somewhere more important to be.

Harry could only assume that they were going to some of their other portraits to gossip about The Boy Who Lived.

Harry climbed the steps and into a very different office than the one that Harry had first entered his second year. Gone were the knick-knacks that had lined the walls, replaced by volumes of textbooks. The room was also much quieter as the random objects that clicked, ticked, or chimed, most of which Harry had never learned the purpose of, had instead been replaced by a number of photos and other personal memorabilia.

Harry's favorite item sat on the edge of McGonagall's desk. The photo was the only one in existence, taken on the first anniversary of The Battle of Hogwarts. In it, the combined members of Dumbledore's Army and The Order of the Phoenix stood together for the first time with Harry, Ron, Hermione seated at the front, a fourth chair left empty to honor Dumbledore's place as the founder of the Order of the Phoenix. Within the ranks of both organizations, other places were left empty in remembrance of the ones that had been lost over the years.

In fact, the Order of the Phoenix had more empty spaces than filled ones by the time that photo had been taken. Even after adding a few people who had been an ally of the organization over the years without becoming an official member, their side of the photo looked particularly vacant.

Still, the photo was a reminder of all that they had lost and of those that had survived to the end, a reminder that all victory in war requires sacrifice. McGonagall kept the only known copy of this photo in her office. She had taught almost every person in the photo and was now widely considered to be the elder statesman of the wizarding world, much as Dumbledore had been before her.

"Mr. Potter, it's good to see you without shackles around your wrists."

Harry turned to see Minerva McGonagall, dressed in the same black attire that she had always worn. The only difference was her hat. Instead of the usual witch's hat she had worn over the years, now she wore the traditional cap of the Headmaster. It was a look that Harry would never get used to seeing, even ten years after the fact.

"I must say that I quite enjoy not being incarcerated myself," Harry said as he reached out to embrace his former teacher.

"I hear that the monster that did it is still on the loose."

"What do you mean by monster?" Harry asked as he sat in one of the chairs across from McGonagall's seat.

"My dear boy, much like my predecessors, I find myself in a position where a number of people come to me for counsel, including your...friend, Miss Granger, although I suppose that term sells your relationship short these days."

Somehow, even though her voice hadn't changed, Harry could feel the disappointment radiating from McGonagall, a feeling that Harry hated. Harry and Hermione were both adults, a fact that McGonagall would never have contested. Still, the fact that they lied about their relationship to their other closest friend for years was something that Minerva McGonagall would likely find incredibly distasteful.

"Hermione told you about Legion?"

"She did not name the beast as such, but she did tell me that whatever killed your cousin was not exactly human."

"That's about the long and short of it," Harry replied. "In fact, that's all we know, which is why I wanted to see you."

"You wish to access the Restricted Section, I presume?"

Harry furrowed his brow in confusion.

"How did you know that?"

"Potter, I do realize that it has been quite some time since you were a student of mine, but I trust that you have not forgotten how to use your brain. The oldest repository of information in the wizarding world, at least in England, is the Hogwarts' library. If you wished to use the library, you would have simply visited Madam Pince and done so. However, since you are here, one can only presume that you need access to the Restricted Section of the library."

"Yeah, that's about it," Harry replied. "Hermione and I are searching for a way to capture this monster. For as long as we've known, it has been trapped in a magical cell within the Ministry of Magic. When it was released, it destroyed the cell. We seek a way to restore the runes on the cell door to capture it once more."

"I understand. Unfortunately, I cannot grant you access to the Restricted Section."

That had not been the response that Harry had been expecting. While he knew that Minerva McGonagall did not play favorites, he also knew that if she had a favorite, he was one of them. If he was being entirely honest with himself, there were no scenarios in which he expected that she would turn him down.

"I'm sorry. What?" Harry said in stunned disbelief.

"You see, all requests for access to the Restricted Section by non-students are a matter of public record. While there is nothing that truly prevents me from granting you access, I imagine that it would not be well received if I granted unlimited access to a man who has been suspended from his position with the Ministry."

"Listen, if this is about the thing with me and Hermione-"

"It is not, I assure you," McGonagall replied. "The nature of your relationship is not of my concern. However, the nature of your relationship with the Ministry of Magic, especially Kingsley himself, is of great concern to me. While the Ministry has been wise not to attempt to exercise the kind of control that Fudge once pursued, they do have the official ability to remove me from my position should they feel the need to do so."

"Professor, you can't honestly think that Kingsley would remove you."

"You're right, I cannot," McGonagall admitted. "However, I never imagined the day when Kingsley would suspend Harry Potter and have adequate cause to do so."

Unfortunately, she had a point. Harry had no idea what to do now. This was their one chance to see if there was any information about how to restore the Arch. If it wasn't at Hogwarts, then it likely didn't exist in written form.

Thankfully, Minerva McGonagall was not so cruel as to refuse any assistance.

"There is something I can do," McGonagall added. "If you tell me the information you wish to review, I can procure those materials myself. I will only be able to do it one or two books at a time, but it will prevent your name from being on those requests. You'll also have to review the materials here. I cannot, in good conscience, allow them to leave the castle."

"That's fine!" Harry nearly shouted in relief. "If that's what it takes, then I have to accept. I'll do whatever I can to bring this thing down."

"Of that, I have no doubt, Potter," McGonagall said with a knowing smirk. "Now, what subjects do you wish to review?"

"Well, we need to look into any sort of ritual magic, specifically that related to draining other people of their magic. Speaking of runes, I'll need all the texts you have on ancient runic languages that could be used in a ritual like that. In addition, I'll need historical texts on powerful wizards and witches, particularly those who are more myth and legend than actual fact. Then, I'll be needing information on any major magical anomalies, any unexplained incidents over the last thousand years."

"Potter, that's a quarter of the Restricted Section. Do you have anything that could narrow that down?"

Harry thought for a moment. Then, the image of that old ship that Harry had seen in his vision when he had pushed back again Legion popped to the front of his mind, which led him to two thoughts.

"I believe that Legion is somehow related to ancient mythologies, specifically somewhere on the continent. Legion believes itself to be a god and it might be old enough to have been the origin of some of the world's mythological deities."

"Why from the continent? Why not here?"

"Because I don't necessarily believe that it was created here. During one of my encounters with it, I was able to use Legilimency for a brief moment and in that moment, I saw an image of a ship, a large one with black sails and oars on the side."

"How old do you believe this Legion is?" McGonagall asked.

"At least a thousand years old, at least," Harry replied. "It's certainly older than Hogwarts."

"Well, in that time frame, you are looking at one of several options. There were the Norman invaders from France and the Nordic invaders from Scandinavia. It is widely known that witches and wizards assisted in both invasions. There is also the possibility that subjects from the Roman Empire brought it here with them in the first century."

"I didn't know that you were a historical scholar," Harry said in surprise.

"Every major Muggle event in the world has been assisted or prevented by the existence of magical folk. Having been half-blood myself, I always found that relationship to be interesting. I spent much of my time at the Ministry working on cataloging the variety of public interactions between the magical world and the Muggle one after the installation of the Statute of Secrecy."

'Well, that hopefully will work to my advantage," Harry said. "I would take any help however you can provide it."

"Give me a couple of days and I will have some materials for you to look over."


	15. A Scolding from Bill Weasley

For over two weeks, Harry's routine was exactly the same. He would wake up, make himself a quick breakfast and then walk back down the hill to Hogwarts. Once he was there, he would head straight for McGonagall's office to pick up his reading before heading to an empty classroom that he had been allowed to use. He would read until lunch, which he would get directly from the kitchen, before heading back up to his reading. From there, he would read until the sun drifted over the horizon. Then, he would return his books to the Headmaster's Office before dragging himself back up the hill where he would collapse onto his bed, only to do it again the next day.

During that time, Harry had learned a great deal about the origins of magical Britain. He learned how almost every expedition from the continent to Britain was headed by magical people, using Muggles as the bulk of their fighting force, which didn't come as too much of a surprise to Harry. However, it was amazing how many historical figures, people like Charlemagne and King Henry IV, were in fact wizards. Of course, considering the Statute of Secrecy had not yet been put in place, that shouldn't have been a huge surprise.

Still, Harry didn't seem to find anything in particular that led him to where Legion came from. At first, Harry had believed that Legion had originally been from Rome or Greece, simply based on that fact that there were a number of gods in their mythologies that had the ability to control the minds of mortals or change their shape. But after the first week of research, Harry had ruled those places out. The boat that Harry saw in Legion's mind, the only real clue about where he came from, didn't match any of the pictures of the kind of ships they used for travel on the open seas.

That had pushed Harry towards the strong likelihood that Legion had come from somewhere in central or northern Europe. However, in the last week of research, Harry had still been unable to locate anything that gave him any further hint about Legion may have originated from.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the only bad news for Harry in the last two weeks. In that time, public opinion about Harry and Hermione's relationship had turned from one of morbid curiosity to public outrage. First, it had been the fact that they had started sleeping together before Ron and Hermione had broken up. Then, it was the nature of their work relationship and the fact that they had not disclosed this relationship to the Minister of Magic when they were both simultaneously promoted to their new positions. Next, people had been outraged to learn that not only had they been sleeping together before Ron and Hermione's relationship had ended, but that no one else knew about the relationship, not even their closest friends.

All told, the general public had made their current opinion of the two of them known and it was not pleasant. Harry, who usually hated reading, was glad to have research to do because it meant that he wasn't forced to go out in public.

Of course, there was no one to go out in public with at the moment. Harry, who usually received an owl a day from one of his closest friends, hadn't received a scrap of mail from anyone since the news had gotten out. It was clear that most of their friends shared the public's opinion on Harry and Hermione's decision to lie to them all for the better part of a decade.

It had gotten so bad that Kingsley had been forced to step in. Just a few days after the details of their relationship had hit the newspaper, Kingsley had been forced to make a public statement. He used this statement to assure everyone that he still had complete faith in Harry and Hermione, despite their serious lack of judgement. Kingsley also publicly stated that the Ministry did not believe that Harry had killed Dudley Dursley and his family.

But Kingsley had also announced that Harry would be suspended indefinitely, pending the results of an inquiry into his conduct as Head Auror regarding irregularities around the Helen Greene murder investigation. Said inquiry would be run by the Wizengamot, instead of the DMLE as usual, ensuring that Hermione would have no part in the investigation or its findings.

And yet, somehow that wasn't the worst of it. The relationship drama was annoying, but Harry knew that, eventually, it would blow over. Harry and Hermione would both make very public and embarrassing apologies to everyone and then they would disappear from the spotlight for a bit. Soon enough, things would return to normal.

But there was a large subsection of people out in the world that still earnestly believed that Harry had killed his cousin. While the Ministry had yet to inform the public of the existence of Legion, they had given them a version of the truth by saying that someone had murdered Dudley while using Polyjuice Potion to look like Harry. Even that hadn't been enough to convince some people that Harry hadn't tortured and then murdered the Dursleys, which meant only one thing.

Even after everything, there were some people that didn't trust Harry. There were some that never trusted people in a position of power, a position that Harry had held since he could barely stand, let alone walk or run. Harry would never blame anyone for a healthy sense of suspicion.

Hell, paranoia was what had kept him alive for the better part of seventeen years.

No, the people that truly bothered Harry were the ones who clearly believed that Harry was some kind of monster. While they had lied about the nature of the culprit, they had done nothing to hide the nature of the crime. That meant that there were people out there who believed that Harry had taken hours to torture an eight-year-old girl in front of her mother and father before killing both of them.

Those were the kind of people who had believed everything that Rita Skeeter, long may she rot in Azkaban, had ever written about him. These were the people who believed that he was crazy during his fifth year, those who believed that he lied about Voldemort's return. Now, they believed that he was a homicidal madman.

And it pissed him off. While Harry had not received any mail from his friends, he had received pounds of hate mail, mostly Howlers that Harry simply threw in his fireplace all at once. Then, he would walk into his bedroom and close the door before charming the door. Harry never heard those letters and he never wanted to.

After over two weeks of constant studying, Harry was about ready to give in. He had found nothing in all of the time that he had spent poring over the massive volumes that McGonagall pulled from the library, reading for hours with barely a break to discover nothing new.

That was until Harry opened a book called _The Languages of The Nordic Invasions._ The book was a telling of the variety of magical languages and runic styles that had come into favor during the period of time when the Viking invaders from Scandinavia had come to Britain. It was not a particularly exciting read, but it was also not the worst that Harry had read over the last two and a half weeks.

Harry was reading about a series of Nordic invasions during the middle of the Tenth Century when he noticed something in one of the drawings on the page. The drawing was of one of the landing sites near Dublin where the Nordic raiders first landed. On the staff of the man in the center of the photo appeared to be a series of lines. At first, Harry thought they were nonsense until he remembered that he had those symbols seen before.

They were the same symbols that surrounded the Arch.

Frantically, Harry began turning pages, hoping that someone would address the markings on the staff of the invader. The closest that he got was that the Nordics had been responsible for the creation of several early forms of the Irish language, of which the markings on the staff were a crude translation.

For nearly an hour, Harry scanned the pages of the book and found nothing. In frustration, Harry tossed the book onto the floor before turning and pacing the room. This was beyond him. Harry knew almost nothing about runes and he knew absolutely nothing about ancient languages. Even in a book about ancient languages, the author of the book, Connor Macafee, hadn't named the language.

Harry needed to talk to Hermione. Even if she didn't have the answers, she would know where to look. Unfortunately, he couldn't talk to her at the moment. This was mostly due to the fact that it was the middle of the day and she was at work. It was also due to the fact that Hermione had been moved to a safe house after Kingsley had learned of Legion's existence. In the last few weeks, Hermione had gone from work to the safe house and back with no other excursions.

Thankfully, the mail still worked, which meant that Harry would be able to send her an update on his discovery via owl post. Still, that did nothing to address the fact that Harry had the first potential lead on either the origin of Legion or how to fix The Arch and he could do nothing about it.

Then, it hit him. Hermione hadn't been working alone on the Arch project. During her time down in the Department of Mysteries, she had been working side-by-side with Draco Malfoy and Bill Weasley. While Malfoy would also be at the Ministry and currently unavailable, Bill worked at Gringotts as their chief curse breaker, the highest position a non-goblin had ever reached in the history of the bank.

Of course, Bill might not be all that pleased to see him, considering the news that had just come out about Harry and Hermione. At the moment, Harry couldn't be bothered to worry about that. Bill would have to look at the information that Harry brought him.

If he threw Harry out of the bank on his ass afterwards, then so be it.

Harry raced back up to the Headmaster's Office where he explained that he needed to take one of the books with him. McGonagall pushed back for a moment before she realized that Harry would likely take the book anyway. She quickly told Harry that he had twenty-four hours to return the book before Harry raced out of the castle and back up the hill.

As part of his initial training to become an Auror, Harry had taken several courses on the art of disguise, both magical and practical. With only a few vanity spells and a fake beard, Harry looked like an entirely different person when he Apparated directly into the main hub of Diagon Alley.

Quickly, Harry looked left and right, gauging whether people suspected that the man under the beard was Harry Potter. Thankfully, the disguise seemed to pay off as no one bothered giving him a second glance. Harry took the book under his arm and almost ran towards Gringotts. Once he was inside, Harry raced up the stairs to the third floor and then navigated the labyrinth of desks and offices until he came to the Chief Curse Breaker's office.

Looking around to ensure that no one was around, Harry took off the beard and removed his vanity spells before knocking on the door.

"Just a minute!" came the muffled voice of Bill Weasley from the other side of the door. In an instant, Harry was suddenly nervous. Of all the Weasleys, Bill had always been the most relaxed. Over the years, Harry had seen all the Weasleys blow up in some fashion or another, all of them except Bill, who, above all else, remained unflappable. Now, Harry could only hope that Bill would remain as calm as ever, even in the face of the man who had slept with his brother's girlfriend.

As he pulled the door open, Bill stood behind it with a smile, clearly ready to help solve whatever problem needed addressing. Then, he looked down and saw Harry and in a flash, his smile vanished. He didn't shout or scream, but in that moment, the look of disdain and disappointment on Bill's face was bad enough.

"Harry."

Never before had Bill sounded so cold and distant. With just a single word, Bill told Harry everything that he needed to know about how Harry would be received today and it wasn't going to be particularly pleasant.

"Bill, I…"

How could Harry word such a thing? He needed help from Bill, that much was clear. How do you ask someone for help that has every reason in the world to deny you?

"What do you need?" Bill asked calmly, although it was clear that his patience was already at its end. "I'm very busy today and if you've come here to waste my time-"

"I promise it's not a waste of time!" Harry said, his voice rising. "I need you to look at something."

Bill was clearly frustrated, but he was also one of the best men that Harry had ever had the pleasure of meeting. With a huff, he opened the door further.

"Come in."

Harry darted inside the room before Bill could change his mind. In the aftermath of the war, Bill had become one of the goblin's staunchest allies. For centuries, the goblins had fought with wizards over their rights to become full citizens of the wizarding world. Of course, the Ministry had always responded with force in the past, putting down any semblance of rebellion and threatening to remove them from control of Gringotts if they pushed too hard.

But Bill Weasley, along with Minister Shacklebolt, changed all of that. He encouraged the goblins to petition the Wizengamot rather than revolt openly. Bill had been key in reminding the goblins that they couldn't expect wizards to welcome them with open arms if wizards believed that the only reason goblins wanted to join the Ministry was to rule it.

At Bill's urging, a few influential goblins created the Goblin Integration Force (GIF as they preferred to be called), an organization dedicated to pursuing peaceful ways of joining the Ministry. As of yet, they had not been completely successful in their pursuit of absolute equality, but advances had been made. Goblins were given limited rights to use wands through an application process at the Ministry that ensure that only those goblins that didn't wish to revolt against the Ministry were given wands.

However, they had not gained the right to attend Hogwarts, one of their chief desires, and they had been forced to allow ten wizards to train in goblin metallurgy. Still, it was the first real progress between goblins and wizards in nearly three hundred years.

For his work, Bill Weasley was the favorite wizard in every goblin household. He had quickly been promoted through the curse breaker ranks until, nine months earlier, when he had been named Chief Curse Breaker, the highest rank any human had ever achieved within the bank and the first time a human had been named to a position on the operating board.

Relations with goblins and humans still weren't great. But they were better than they had ever been and that was largely due to William Weasley.

Harry had never been inside Bill's office before. In fact, the only other time he had been in this section of Gringotts was when he had decided to sell Grimmauld Place. Bill's office was a small, cramped room that still somehow had the sensation of being underground despite the window that looked out on the main stretch of Diagon Alley. In the center of the small room was a desk with piles of parchment haphazardly strewn across it with several ink wells interspersed between them. Behind the desk was a bookshelf that lined the back wall, filled from floor to almost the ceiling with books, books whose titles Harry couldn't read, either because they had faded away into nothing or because they were likely written in Gobbledigook, a language that few humans knew how to speak.

Another reason why the goblins liked Bill Weasley.

The top shelf of the bookshelf, however, did not have books, but pictures. Pictures of Fleur and his children mostly, but even from a distance, Harry could recognize his own image in at least two of them.

In both pictures, Harry stood between Ron and Hermione. Harry couldn't help but notice the irony in that.

Once they were both inside the room, Harry turned back to Bill and opened the book. Harry opened his mouth to speak but before he could utter a word, Bill raised a single finger to his mouth, indicating that Harry needed to be quiet. Then, Bill took out his wand and gave it a wave.

"Now you can talk," Bill said as he collapsed on the tattered armchair in the corner of the room, the only other seat besides the one behind his desk.

"I want to make something perfectly clear, Harry: I know what you are working on. Hermione told me about it last week. That's the only reason I let you in."

"I understand," Harry said. It had been a long time since Harry had been truly scolded. He never would have expected that to come from Bill Weasley of all people.

"So, what can I help you with?"

"This," Harry said before turning the book around and placing it in Bill's lap. "Do you recognize those markings?"

The look on Bill's face as he lifted the book told Harry everything. Quickly, Bill began to scan the book much like Harry had.

"There's nothing else there," Harry said as Bill frantically flipped between pages. "Just a mention on how it was an early form of Irish."

"You mean Gaelic," Bill replied.

"That's not what the book said. It said Irish," Harry said as he pointed at the text in question. Immediately, Bill's eyes lit up.

"It's Old Irish," he murmured to himself before almost leaping across the small office to a bookshelf behind Harry where he pulled out a book almost the same size as the one Harry had brought. As Bill spoke, he rifled through the pages, stopping every so often to read a passage before moving on.

Even though Harry was not Bill's favorite person at the moment, Harry had brought him the one thing that could override that feeling: a puzzle. Much like Harry himself, puzzles were a passion of Bill's. While Harry looked for those puzzles in the form of clues in an investigation, Bill's work meant that he spent most of his time attempting to undo curses, checking objects for clues as to what exact curse had been placed on it so that he could administer the proper counter-curse.

"This is a catalog of old runic languages. They were the earliest forms of written languages and for years, we used them as runes. Most of them have fallen out of favor for one reason or another. The issue is that almost all runes are designed around the language of the person who performs the spell or ritual. At first, I assumed that meant that it had to be English. Then, you thought it was Nordic before it became Legion, so I started looking into those."

"You never thought to look in Irish?" Harry asked.

"You have to understand that Irish isn't a spoken language. Hasn't been for a thousand years. Gaelic is rare but it's still spoken, but Old Irish, its precursor, is almost entirely dead. Even if I had started to look into Old Irish, there are dozens of versions of it and almost as many alphabets to boot. It would have taken me months to narrow this down."

Suddenly, Bill turned the book around to Harry, pointing at a page with a series of symbols that looked almost identical to the ones inscribed on the staff.

"This is Ogham. It is an old writing system for Old Irish, originating sometime around the fifth century."

"Then why is it on the staff of someone from Scandinavia?"

"Because this picture doesn't show a Scandinavian, Harry," Bill replied. "Most of the Irish settlements that we know today, they were originally settled by Nordic invaders. There was a period of time when Irish meant Nordic. This picture is more likely of an early Irishman."

"The language on the Arch. It's Irish?"

"In a roundabout way, yes," Bill replied. "According to this, Ogham was frequently used by Nordic invaders after they came to present day Ireland."

For the first time in weeks, they had something to go on. It was small and it would likely take a lot more work before they could even use this information, but Merlin, it was something.

"So we know that the Arch had to have been created sometime after the fifth century. Do we know anything else?"

"At the moment, no. But, I will get Malfoy an Ogham key and get him to work on the translation. It's going to take awhile. The language isn't a pure translation to Old Irish and even then, we've got to get it translated into Gaelic and then into English."

"The sooner we can get those runes transcribed, the sooner we know what the hell we're dealing with."

"Agreed," Bill said and then a rather sudden and uncomfortable silence washed over the room as they both remembered that they weren't really on good terms at the moment. Silently, Harry took the book back from Bill and put it under his arm.

He made to move to the door when Bill called out to him.

"Sit down," Bill said, pointing at the same chair that vacated just moments earlier. For most people, Harry worried that Bill was going to hex him once he sat down. But the look on Bill's face told Harry that he genuinely wanted to talk.

So Harry sat.

At the same time, Bill restored the book that he had removed from his own bookshelf before taking his chair from his desk and setting it across from Harry. When Bill sat, he intentionally looked away from Harry as he thought of what he wanted to say.

"I'm...well, I have to admit that I'm feeling a lot of things, Harry."

He certainly wasn't the only one, but Harry could empathize with the fact that Bill had a lot of thoughts going on in his mind about this particular situation.

"You've always been one of us. I didn't even meet you until you were almost fourteen, but trust me, I feel like I knew you already. Every single letter that Ron sent had your name in it. Hell, it wasn't long before every letter that Mum sent had your name in it."

"You were one of us and it wasn't just because you were an orphan. Before the war, Weasley wasn't a respected name in our world. We were poor, plentiful, and, for those that cared about that sort of thing, blood traitors. Yet here was Harry Potter, only the most famous person in our world, sitting at our kitchen table and marveling at the home that had been mocked by other less famous people for years. You accepted us as who we were and in turn, we did the same for you."

Bill leaned back into his chair, his voice breaking a bit as he continued.

"That's why all of this hurts as much as it does, Harry. Let me be the first in my family to say that it has absolutely nothing to do with your relationship with Hermione. However that ends up for the both of you, I honestly hope that both of you are nothing but happy with whatever you choose."

Harry knew that the hammer was coming. He just didn't know quite how hard it was going to hit or how much it was going to hurt.

"This is about Ron and the rest of the family. You lied to him, you lied to all of us. For years, you lied over and over again. Now, I blame Hermione equally for this. Between the two of you, one of you should have had the brains to simply come clean. More than any of that, I can't believe that you would do that to Ron and to our family. Ron isn't perfect. Trust me, I know. But he has been your oldest friend. He's your brother, just like I am."

"I know," Harry whispered, shame washing over him. If he had thought he had been scolded before, he couldn't even begin to come up with a word for this.

"Do you? Do you honestly understand, Harry? On the night that Fred was killed, I sat with the rest of my family in the Great Hall and I watched my family do everything it could to hold itself together. We could have just gone to pieces and it would have been well within our rights to do so. Why didn't we?"

"Because the fight wasn't over."

"Because the fight wasn't over," Bill echoed. "We knew that we were still needed. But when we saw Hagrid carrying you out of the woods, that was it. I don't know about the rest of my family, but I was done. I may have said that I was fighting to save the world, but in all honesty, I was fighting for my family. And if fighting for my family just meant that I got the privilege to watch them die one at a time, then I was going to take my family and run."

Harry honestly didn't know what to say. What could he say in response to something like that? Thankfully, Bill didn't ask him to respond.

"That's why this hurt so much. You are a Weasley and you always will be. It just hurts to know that you kept something like this from Ron for so long."

"I wish I hadn't," Harry replied in frustration. "Both of us do. For years, we alternated between wanting to tell him and not. For me, after years of working with Dumbledore and after the Horcrux Hunt and the Aurors, secrets became my life."

Harry chuckled to himself darkly at the thought that secrets had somehow become the basis of his life.

"I hated secrets growing up," Harry said, more to himself than to Bill. "I hated them more than anything. I remember how mad I was when Dumbledore told me about the prophecy or when I finally found out about Sirius. Of course, Sirius was innocent, but the point remains that I hated that they thought that I wasn't mature enough to deal with the truth."

"Somewhere along the way, that anger disappeared. As I got older and I saw more of the world and what it was really like, I began to understand why people keep secrets. For Dumbledore, secrets meant that he stayed ahead of the enemy. Secrets kept us alive during the Horcrux hunt. Aurors say that secrets protect people. In the end, the less information that is out there, the less harm can be done with that information."

Harry finally dared to look at Bill, who stared at him skeptically.

"I know that it isn't a good excuse," Harry admitted. "It's not even an excuse. It's an explanation, I guess. Not a very good one, I suppose."

Harry leaned back in his chair, doing his best to collect his thoughts. This was the first time he had been able to articulate his thoughts on this horrible business out loud to someone other than Hermione. But it was especially important that Harry said what he truly meant to Bill, because he knew that Bill would likely repeat everything that he said to the rest of his family.

Outside of Ron, of course.

Normally, Harry would have been upset at the idea of Bill sharing this conversation with others. But given the current circumstances, he could understand that he didn't have a leg to stand on when it came to speak to others confidentially. None of the Weasleys trusted Harry right now and he couldn't blame them.

But if they knew just how terribly he felt about the whole thing, even if it came from Bill first, that might be the first step in trying to fix this whole thing, something that Harry wanted more than anything in the world right now.

"None of this was fair to Ron, I know. We should have told him at least. We didn't and that's not fair to him or to you or to any of the rest of you. You trusted me and you trusted Hermione and we took that trust and lied to you. There's no way to justify that and if I was given the opportunity to do it over again, I would."

"Life doesn't work that way."

Despite the fact that Bill was justifiably upset at Harry, Harry couldn't help but take offense at the idea that Harry wasn't distinctly aware that there were no "do-overs" in life.

"Bill, I honestly don't need a reminder of that. I have a lifetime of memories that prove exactly that," Harry said firmly. "The only thing I can say in my defense is that I honestly thought that I was lying to Ron to protect him."

"How could you possibly think that?" Bill scoffed. "How could you possibly believe that keeping him in the dark about the real reason that Hermione broke things off with him was going to protect him?"

"Hermione and I never intended our relationship to be anything more than friends."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Bill asked.

"We never intended to date. We never thought that we would get married or have kids or do anything like that. The truth was that we were as close as any two people could be and we were under a great deal of stress. Neither of us found anyone else and so we decided to find a way to relieve that stress."

"That's honestly all you thought this was?"

"In the beginning that is exactly what it was. Obviously, things have changed since then but in either case, we didn't figure that it would become a thing. We always assumed that one of us would find someone else, the physical part of our relationship would end and that would be that."

Bill was clearly not impressed with that answer.

"And Ron would never be any the wiser?"

"Ron would never need to know. Before Ron knew about this, he said a thousand different times how he knew that his relationship with Hermione wasn't going to work."

"A viewpoint he might have only had because you and Hermione ended his relationship."

"Hermione ended the relationship. I had nothing to do with that."

Bill actually laughed at that.

"Harry, you were in the middle of that relationship from the beginning. You were their best friend and the one person that Ron honestly felt threatened by when it came to Hermione's feelings."

"He had no reason for that."

"Didn't he? Didn't Hermione stay with you when Ron left? Didn't you end up sleeping with Hermione and breaking up her relationship with Ron in the process?"

"I-yes, those things did happen."

"Listen, Harry, I'm not going to sit here and tell you that I'm perfect. I'm not. And I'm certainly not going to sit here and tell you that Ron is perfect because I can barely get that sentence out with a straight face. But I am here to tell you that you need to accept the part that you played in Ron and Hermione's relationship. Ron is furious that you lied to him. He's also justifiably pissed off about the fact that he feels like he will never know what his relationship with Hermione would have actually been like if you had not _intervened._ "

"Maybe they would have gotten married? Maybe they would have still broken up but it would have been mutual this time? That night changed everything for the three of you and the sooner you accept your part in that, the sooner you can start down the path of fixing that."

"Fixing that? How the fucking hell can I fix it?" Harry barked. "I lied to Ron and the rest of your family for eight years."

"Yes, you did. Most of us are pretty upset about it. But you know the one thing that you have working in your favor?"

"What's that?" Harry scoffed.

"You're Harry Potter," Bill said casually. "And I'm not talking about the fairy tale version. I'm talking about you. We know you and we know who you are. We know that you don't want to hurt the people that you care about. We know that you are incredibly human and capable of making mistakes, large and small."

"You are going to have to work to get back into our good graces, both of you will. But the same things that I said about you can apply to Hermione as well. At heart, you are good people who made a stupid mistake and then, rather than owning up to it, you made another mistake by not telling anyone about it. I've done it, Ron has done it, we have all done it."

Bill leaned forward in his chair, a strange smile on his face.

"Here's the deal: you need to talk to Ron. He will take some convincing. At the moment, I think he actually wants to kill you. But eventually, he'll come around. When he does, you tell him what you told me today. You tell him that you know that it was stupid and cowardly to keep this secret from him."

"Why would he listen to me?"

"Because more than any of us, he knows Harry Potter, too, and regardless of whether or not he will admit this to anyone else, he already misses his best friend."

"I miss him, too," Harry admitted. "I'll do my best."

"It would be nice to see that, Harry. I would hazard a guess to say that it's been quite awhile since we've truly seen the best out of Harry Potter or Hermione Granger."

That comment hit Harry hard. It hurt, not because it was false, but because it was true. He had just needed someone to point it out. He had inspired dozens of people to fight a war that they saw no way out of. Those same people had fought a battle that they believed they could win, only because Harry said so.

Those people had believed in Harry for a reason. Over the last decade, Harry had become a shell of the man that he was at seventeen. Certainly, he was more powerful and more gifted, but that meant nothing because Harry was only using that power for his job.

Sometime over the last decade, he had lost sight of the importance of doing what he could for others. It had been his giving nature that had inspired the wizarding world to stand up to Riddle. If something like that happened again, would they still do the same? When Harry had been at Hogwarts, there were nearly two dozen students that Harry could have called a friend. After the events of the last week, Hermione was the only person that he knew would still stand by him.

Hell, he lived in a shack in the woods, quite literally hidden away from the rest of the world.

Harry didn't know everything, but he knew that the seventeen-year-old version of him would look at the man he was today and he would be disappointed.

"You're right, Bill," Harry said, the crushing weight of realization falling on him all at once. "I want to do better."

"Then do better," Bill replied. "You are Harry Potter, after all. If there's anyone that is capable of it, it's you."


	16. Mea Culpa

Harry took Bill's words to heart. The moment he got home, he wrote Ron a letter, telling him that he wanted to talk. Then, he waited. For nearly a week, Harry waited for some kind of response, something that told him that Ron got his letter.

And he heard nothing.

To be honest, Harry wasn't particularly surprised by this lack of response. Ron was notoriously stubborn even on the best of days and it was worse when he was angry. Right now, Ron was likely about as angry as he had ever been and for good reason.

A week later, after a check-in meeting with Hermione at his house where she told him that Bill and Malfoy had made only a little progress in the translation, Harry sent another letter. Again, he waited and got no response.

This time, he sent another letter two days later, not wanting to waste time. He continued scouring the Hogwarts library for information that could help them, but he found nothing. Between that and Ron's silence, Harry was frustrated yet he remained determined on both accounts.

Every day, he woke up and wrote Ron a letter. He never expressed much in the letter, just a desire to talk, to explain himself, and to apologize. Then, he returned to Hogwarts where he continued reading as much as he could about the culture of the Nordic invaders. He learned everything there was to know about their customs, their mythology, and even their diet.

Harry might not have learned anything else about Ogham or how to use the Arch or even where Legion came from, but he would certainly have a lot of useless knowledge around Norse culture.

Then, Harry would get home and he would write another letter. Some days, the letters would be almost identical. On other days, they were noticeably different. For seventeen days, Harry wrote letters and researched until finally, late one night in the beginning of September, Harry heard a knock on the door.

At this point, that Harry knew was that it was not Hermione, who had a tendency to knock in fours. This knock was only one single pound on the door. Harry got up from his bed and raced to the door, ripping it open.

Standing in front of him was one Gabrielle Delacour with a stack of letters in her hand.

"Um, hello, Gabrielle."

"Evening. Care to let me inside," Gabrielle replied firmly. It was worded very pleasantly and yet it was clear that it was not a question.

"Of course, of course," Harry said, swinging the door wide and allowing Gabrielle the space to enter. Immediately, Gabrielle strode in the house and dropped the stacks of letters on the table before taking a seat.

Gabrielle was much like her sister in certain ways. She was brash, direct, and a bit arrogant. But whereas Fleur often spoke circles around topics of conflict and was prone to emotional outbursts, Gabrielle was as literal as a person could be and didn't waste time with silly things like emotions. It was why she was a good match for Ron.

It was also why Gabrielle and Harry had historically not gotten along very well. Even today, ten years after the war, Harry was largely ruled by his emotions, which guided him to where he believed he should go. Gabrielle didn't have time for that kind of response and whenever Ron had gone to Harry for advice, Gabrielle could be sure to give Ron the exact opposite advice.

"Sit down, Harry," Gabrille said firmly. Normally, Harry would have pushed back against the idea of being ordered to sit down in his own home, but he was admittedly curious why Gabrielle was here at all and so he sat.

"Now, this is all very nice, Harry, but I'm afraid your effort has gone unnoticed by my boyfriend," Gabrielle said, gesturing at the pile of envelopes on his table. "He hasn't read a single one of your letters."

Harry's heart sank. He knew that Ron was upset, but he never thought in a million years that Ron would just ignore everything that Harry sent him. He had hoped that Bill's insight would prove true and that despite his anger, Ron would desire reconciliation between him and Harry.

It appears that he was wrong.

Then, Harry noticed something.

"Some of these have been opened."

"Oh yes, Ron hasn't read them, but I did."

"You did?" Harry asked, uncertain of what that meant.

"I did. You see I don't particularly find it easy to forgive people who offend me. In fact, when one of my friends does something to hurt me, it's usually Ron who encourages me to forgive them. Of course, none of my friends have slept with Ron."

Harry knew that whatever was coming, these kinds of jabs at Harry's character would be part of it. That was how Gabrielle spoke anyway and now, she was angry, which would only make it worse.

"To be clear, Ron is still pissed at you and rightfully so. But, I know that if I were Ron, he would be trying to convince me to give the person who wrong me another chance. Ron, unlike myself, believes in people and in second chances. Despite all of my personal feelings on the matter, I tried to convince Ron that he needed to see what you were saying. I reminded him that he has encouraged me to forgive a number of times over the years, but he refused to do so. After a couple days, my curiosity got the better of me and I pulled one out and read it."

"And?"

"I have to admit, I found your writing rather appalling," Gabrielle said with a smirk. "However, the sheer effort that you put into bombarding our home with letters every day told me that I should give you the chance to explain yourself since you refused to do so in your letters."

"I wanted to talk to Ron in person," Harry replied. "It seemed like it wouldn't be as genuine if I just wrote it down on paper."

"I supposed as much," Gabrielle replied. "Now, before I hear anything more from you, I have a question for you. Your response will tell me whether or not I put any further effort into trying to help you out here."

"OK?"

Gabrielle leaned forward, her head settling over her crossed arms on the table so that she was just inches away from Harry.

"Do you love Hermione Granger?"

"What?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Do you love her? It's a simple question, Harry."

"What the hell has that got to do with anything?" Harry questioned.

"Because if you love her, then all the pain and heartache that Ron is going through right now, it might just be worth it for him."

"What do you mean by that?"

Gabrielle leaned back in her seat.

"I know Ron better than I know anyone in the world. I know how he likes his coffee in the morning. I know that he sleeps with his socks on until about three in the morning when he kicks them off because he's too warm. I know that he prefers his meat to be cooked far too long, but I do it for him anyway because I love him. I know just about every little detail there is to know about him.

"Right now, I know one thing about Ron: he's angry, angrier than I've ever seen him. But everyone assumes that he's angry because Hermione cheated on him."

"That's not it?" Harry asked. Harry had assumed that Ron was chiefly angry because Hermione had cheated on him and Harry had been the offending part. Of course, the fact that they had hidden that for years was another problem, but not the primary one in Harry's mind.

It appeared that Harry was wrong.

"No, that's not it," Gabrielle replied. "You see, Ron has spent the better part of a decade redefining who he is as a person. When I first met him, he was angry, hostile to all viewpoints other than his own, and completely incapable of accepting criticism of himself or those that he loved."

"But as time has passed, he has changed and not because anyone told him that he had to. He didn't change for you or Hermione. He didn't even change for me. No, Ron changed because he wanted to become a better man. When we first started dating, he revealed to me that his lowest moment was when he left you and Hermione on the Horcrux Hunt. He accepted that the Horcrux influenced him to act how he did, but that even then, it still didn't excuse his behavior."

"So, over the years, Ron has worked to become a more understanding person, someone that can be trusted to receive bad news and not explode. Someone that is more thoughtful of others, someone that places others before himself. Despite all those changes, which I'm sure you've seen, you couldn't tell him that you were sleeping with Hermione. To be honest, and at least partially fair to you, if you had told him right when it happened, he might not have reacted very well, but there were multiple times over the years that you could have told him. Yet, he learned of it from Legion, which you also did not tell him about, despite the fact that it clearly threatens his safety."

"I say all this, not to make you feel bad, although I'm sure it does. I tell you this so that you understand that Ron, as angry as he is, still cares for you and Hermione greatly. The pain that he feels so acutely right now is largely due to the fact that he has conflicting emotions on the subject. On one hand, he is angry at the two of you for what you've done and the fact that you lied about it. On the other hand, he still loves both of you dearly and wants both of you to be happy. So, I'll ask again, Harry: do you love Hermione?"

Harry had thought about that question ever since Ron interrupted them at Hermione's home. Hermione had already told Harry as much, but Harry was never given the opportunity to reply. If he had, what would he have said? For years, both of them had pushed back against the idea that there was more to their relationship than friendship.

But was that due to the fact that they had been lying to Ron or because they actually believed it to be true?

In either case, Harry didn't have to think long about his answer. In fact, it came to him far easier than Harry could have ever imagined.

"Yes," Harry admitted softly. "Yes, I do."

"Does she know that?" Gabrielle asked.

"I...we haven't had the chance to talk about it."

"Well, then figure out this whole Legion thing and get yourself that opportunity," Gabrielle said firmly. "Listen, I know that you and I have not particularly gotten along, but I think that's more due to our nature than any true sense of dislike for one another. But to be clear, if I was given the choice in this situation, I would have hung you in the public square for what you did to Ron."

"Can't say that I'm surprised."

"And yet, despite how angry he is right now, I know that's not what he would want. You are his best friend and he needs you, just like you need him. That means that despite my personal feelings for how you have treated him, I will do this one thing for you."

"Do what?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Monday at eight, be at The Jester. I'll talk to George and get the backroom cleared out for the two of you."

"Really?"

"Really," Gabrielle confirmed with a slight smile. "Be warned, Harry: you're only going to get one chance. If he doesn't like what you say and he walks away, I'm not going to help you again. Think about what you want to say and say it well."

"I will."

Gabrielle stood and marched towards the door. However, just before she got there, she turned back to Harry.

"For what it's worth, Harry, I do think he wants the two of you to be happy. And for my Knuts, I don't think you're a bad person, but something like this can never happen again. Because if it does, it won't be Ron you have to worry about."

"Of course," Harry said urgently, "and Gabrielle, thank you."

"Don't thank me, Harry. I'm putting you in a room with a wounded animal. It's going to fight back before it lets you help."

The next few days were some of the hardest of Harry's life. Even when he was trying to focus on his research, Harry's mind often wandered towards his upcoming meeting with Ron. He thought about what he would say, how Ron would respond, and what Harry would say in return. Harry found that focusing on anything else was almost impossible. In the end, if Ron didn't like what Harry had to say, Ron could walk away and Harry could lose the first friend he ever made in the wizarding world forever.

When the time finally came, Harry did as Gabrielle said. He arrived at The Jester at ten minutes before eight to find the backroom empty with a single exception. It had been awhile since Harry had seen George at The Jester, considering how busy he was with Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. But the moment that Harry saw George, Harry knew that George was there for a reason.

"George," Harry said, freezing the moment he stepped into the room.

"Harry," George said, leaning against the long bar on the far side of the room, "come have a drink with me."

If there was ever a time that Harry was worried that someone might kill him, it was now. George, unlike his older brother, was notoriously ruthless to those people who offended him or his family. While Ron had always been George's favorite target, it also meant that Ron was one of the few people that George went out of his way to protect.

Ron was his only little brother after all.

George reached over the bar and grabbed a bottle of Fred's Finest and two glasses. Then, he poured a pair of steep shots before sliding one over to Harry. George took the glass in front of him and turned to Harry, raising his glass.

"Good luck, Harry. You're going to need it."

Then, he downed the glass and Harry did the same. George grabbed Harry's glass and filled both of them almost to the top, an amount too large of a shot.

This was clearly a sipping pour and one that George intended to savor.

"Thank you, George," Harry almost whispered, his voice still feeling the effects of the liquor sliding down his throat.

"Don't thank me. Gabi told me what's going on and she made the point that we owe it to you to give you a chance to explain yourself."

"Still, you didn't have to do that."

"No, I didn't," George admitted, "but that's what we do for family, right?"

The line was clearly a shot at Harry and one that Harry deserved. Harry, rather than push back, took it in stride.

"It is."

"Just know that if Ron walks away from this, he's not the only one you'll lose. You broke Mom's heart. When she first found out, you know I don't think I've ever seen her that mad. What's worse is that she said she was pretty sure she knew that you two were together. But she wouldn't believe it because she knew, _she just knew,_ that if something like that had happened, you would have told us."

The thought of an irate Molly Weasley terrified Harry. While he had seen her upset, it had never been directed at him. But the idea of disappointing Molly Weasley, who had been the mother that he had never had, made Harry want to throw up.

"So, you'll get your ten minutes," George said as he noticed the door open on the far side of the room. "Use them well."

It seemed like it took years for the door to open and even longer for Gabrielle to enter the room, followed closely by Ron. For a moment, he wore a relaxed smile on his face, as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Then, he saw Harry and before Harry could even process Ron's appearance, it changed, rage washing over his entire being.

It was clear that Ron had not known that Harry would be here tonight. Ron turned to leave when Gabrielle stepped in front of him.

"Gabi, get out of my way!" Ron roared.

"No," Gabrielle replied. While she may have been significantly shorter than Ron, she was clearly not intimidated by the redhead towering over her.

"Excuse me?" Ron bellowed. While Harry didn't feel like there was any chance that Ron was going to hurt Gabrielle, he was certainly on the edge of truly blowing his top.

"You're going to sit in here for ten minutes and you are going to listen," Gabrielle said, her voice as even as it had ever been.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I said so," Gabrielle snapped, "and because if you don't, then I'll leave you."

That certainly wasn't a threat that Harry had expected to be thrown around today. The look on Ron's face told Harry that something similar was happening in Ron's mind.

"What?"

"If at the end of ten minutes, you can't find any reason to forgive him, then you and I will walk, no questions asked. But if you even so much as open this door before that time, I'll leave."

"Why?" Ron scoffed. "You don't even like Harry."

"So what? He's been your best friend since you were eleven. Did he do some shitty things to you? Yes. Still, you'll hear him out."

Ron's frustration and, if Harry was being completely honest, confusion was reaching peak levels, causing Ron to retreat from Gabrielle and begin pacing the central aisle of the room.

"I don't get it. You told me that you would castrate him if you got the chance. You told me that you wanted to hang both of them from The Tower of London! Why the hell are you trying to get me to forgive him?"

"I'm not," Gabrielle said simply, "but I know that you want to. You just need some help."

Ron's face changed not one bit at that comment. Eventually, he nodded slightly, which Gabrielle clearly took as his approval of this plan. Gabrielle looked over Ron's shoulder to Harry.

"Good luck."

George clapped Harry on the shoulder before both he and Gabrielle walked out the door, leaving Harry with the aforementioned wounded animal. Even when Harry and Ron had been angry at each other, whether it was fourth year or during the Horcrux Hunt, they had never been unsure of what to say.

Now, after days of practicing what he wanted to say, Harry was speechless.

"Well?" Ron said, still facing away from him. "You going to say anything?"

"I...do you want to sit down?" Harry said, gesturing towards the tables that lined the room. Ron grunted and then took a seat at one of the tables near him. Before Ron could protest too much, Harry took the seat across from him. Still, Ron stared at his hands, refusing to meet Harry's eyes.

"So, there's a lot that I want to say," Harry said, his hands sweating profusely as he spoke. "First, I know that there's a lot for me to apologize for. For sleeping with Hermione in the first place, lying to you about that, lying to you about what we were doing, Legion: that's just the short list, I know. I have come to the realization that I have not been a very good friend to you or to anyone else really over the last few years."

Ron remained staring at his hands. He wasn't screaming so Harry took that as a sign to keep talking.

"You see, I think I just got used to the idea of keeping secrets. We both know that-"

"Save it," Ron barked, finally looking up at Harry.

"What?" Harry eventually replied.

"Bill told me what you told him. Your theory on how secrets became your life and all that nonsense."

"I don't think it's nonsense," Harry protested.

"Oh, it's nonsense. You never had any problems with secrets as long as you were the one keeping them. You kept plenty of things from plenty of people with one exception: you never kept anything from Hermione or me."

Harry couldn't really argue that point unfortunately. Ron was right. Harry had spent his life keeping secrets. Ron was also right that the only secrets that really bothered Harry were the ones kept from him.

But if it wasn't secrecy that kept Harry from telling Ron about Hermione, then what is it? As Harry thought about it, he realized that there was only one possible answer.

"You're right," Harry admitted. "I never kept anything from you before this. You're right that I don't get to say that keeping secrets was easier, mostly because it wasn't. Lying to you was hard, but it wasn't as hard as admitting the real truth. The real truth is that I was a coward. I could have told you hundreds of different times and I didn't. I made a mistake and I was too afraid to own up to it. Over time, I let that fear own me and that's why we're here today."

"Why would you feel that you had to lie to me?" Ron asked. "We both know that I would have been upset about you sleeping with Hermione, but I think I would have gotten over it."

"Ron, I spent years trying to convince you that I wasn't a threat to your relationship with Hermione," Harry explained. "I was so worried that if we told you that I slept with Hermione, that you would think that I had been lying all those years. I didn't want that. When Hermione made the decision to break up with you, that made it easier to simply keep it secret. You weren't dating anymore and so it wasn't going to hurt you if you didn't know."

"Funny how that worked out, huh?" Ron replied, a dark satisfaction in his voice. "So that's it? You lied because it was easier?"

Was that all there was to it? Harry thought for a moment, but when the answer came to him, he knew that he should have realized it years ago.

"I told myself that I was protecting you by lying...but I was also protecting myself. By lying to you, I thought I was sparing you pain. What I really was doing was making sure that I kept you around. I also lied to keep myself from realizing the truth about how I felt about Hermione."

At that, Ron finally sat up straight and truly looked at Harry. The look on his face was entirely unreadable, but Harry knew what was going to come out of his mouth regardless.

"Do you love her?"

Unlike when Gabrielle asked him, this time, Harry didn't hesitate for a moment.

"Yes, I do," Harry replied, watching as Ron's face contorted slightly. "I admit that I don't know how long I've loved her, but I do love her. She's...well, over the last couple of years, she's become the one person that I feel truly like myself around."

"I would say that hurts, but it's not like you could have truly been yourself around me," Ron replied, jabbing the knife in a little deeper this time.

"It didn't help," Harry admitted, "and I know that this thing with Legion hasn't helped my case."

Ron raised a hand to stop Harry at that.

"Listen, I'm pissed about a long list of things right now. But I can understand that you were doing your job. Would I have told you if I were in your situation? I'd like to think so, but I know the amount of pressure you were under. Trust me, I'm not happy about the whole thing, but you can consider yourself forgiven for that."

Unfortunately, that did nothing to remove the weight that had been buried deep in Harry's stomach ever since Harry had found out about his relationship with Hermione.

"Back to the other thing," Harry whispered, "I know that I lied to you. I know that I lied to you about a lot of different things and for a long time. If you gave me time, I could sit here and come up with dozens of reasons why I did that. We both know that none of them would be a good enough reason for not having told you.'

"For that, you shouldn't forgive me. Gabrielle said it to me when we spoke and she was right. I did something to you that no one should do to even their close friends, let alone their best friend, their brother. I admit that I have done something that cannot truly ever be forgiven or forgotten."

"I can't fix that. Not today, not tomorrow, or next week. Probably not next month and maybe not even by next year. But I want to make things better, Ron. I really, desperately do. I don't want to live with this pit of guilt and regret in my stomach all the time. I'm tired of hiding things and I'm tired of lying."

"I absolutely understand if you walk away right now and never talk to me again. I would hate that, but it would be a punishment that I rightfully deserve. But I would like another chance to prove to you that I am still the friend you thought I was."

Ron sat across from Harry, taking Harry's speech with his eyes aimed off in the distance. Still, Harry knew that Ron was listening. In fact, Ron often listened better when he wasn't looking at you. Something about facial expression distracting from his ability to listen.

So, Harry wasn't surprised when Ron responded in kind.

"I'm too pissed at you to try and fix things right now," Ron admitted, a sentence that caused something like an anchor to drop into Harry's guts. "But, you should be thankful, Harry Potter. Thankful that you have friends and family that still believe in you. When I found out about this, I told everyone in my family and immediately, they were all pissed at both of you."

"But over time, as I continued to rant and rave about what a horrible person you were, they all began reminding me of the times that you stood by me, even when I didn't deserve it. Now, I would argue that I never fucked your girlfriend, but their point was well taken."

"Then, Bill came by my house after you met with him. He told me that you seemed lost, broken, even if you were working on a question, the one thing keeping you going. And then, Hermione came to visit."

"You talked to Hermione?" Harry asked.

Ron nodded. "She came to my house and we talked through how all of this happened. She reminded me just how awful I had been on the night that the two of you first slept together. She told me that it wasn't an excuse for what she had done, but I'm not so sure of that. Either way, that's not important. What was important is that she reminded me of the number of times that you put yourself out there for me, even after the two of you hooked up. You were there for me. Whether it was out of love or guilt, I can't be entirely certain right now, but you were there."

Harry wasn't entirely certain that he should get points for that, considering the amount of guilt that Harry felt over the years about this whole situation. Still, he was pleased that Ron seemed rational enough to consider that at all.

"She also told me that you were the one that wanted to tell me and that she didn't let you."

"Well, I-she never forbid me from telling you, Ron," Harry explained. "Honestly, that doesn't make it better. I just chose her over you."

"Mate, just to be clear, I'll choose Gabrielle over you on almost everything for the rest of my life," Ron replied, which elicited a small laugh from the both of them. "And this is Hermione we're talking about. Even if the two of you never got together, she was always going to be the most important person in your life."

"That's not true. You were-"

"Don't finish that sentence," Ron interjected. "Whatever you were going to say was going to be another lie and I don't want to hear it. I'm not so weak that I can't stand to hear that someone is more important than me. I'm not fourteen anymore. I've grown, I've changed. Dammit, that's why this fucking upset me so much. It's like fifteen years have gone by but the two of you are still treating me like I'm a fifth year whose is confused over how a girl can feel both attracted to someone and grieve over the death of their former boyfriend."

Ron leaned forward. "Hermione is the most important person in your world, Harry. She has been since fourth year and we both know it. For a while, you would have been considered the most important person in my world, but even if everything were perfect between the two of us, it simply wouldn't be the case anymore. I have Gabi."

For the longest time, Harry had been content to be the second most aware person in the Trio. No one could touch Hermione, obviously, and for years, Ron had been about as aware of the world around him as a pet rock.

But Ron was right. He had changed, he had matured. Ron Weasley now understood the world and the people around him far better than Harry did, likely because Ron Weasley actually spent time in the world. He didn't hide from difficult emotions or conversations anymore. He embraced them.

Harry had always been fond of Ron and he did truly love Ron like a brother. But for the first time, Harry could honestly say that he looked up to Ron and how he had grown and developed over the years. Harry only hoped that one day, he could follow Ron's example.

"Speaking of Gabi, I suppose you should know that we're getting married next summer."

Ron Weasley was getting married? Harry's mind froze for a moment as he considered the possibility. But now that Harry had a more accurate reading of the man who sat before him, this information made all the sense in the world. Ron was twenty-eight years old, a successful businessman, and a clearly responsible partner.

He was ready to start a family.

Would Harry ever reach that point in life, he wondered to himself. Even after the war, his life had been too consistently reckless to even entertain the thought of "settling down." But at that thought, Harry suddenly found Hermione at the forefront of his mind. Would she want to do that? Would she want to do that with him? Suddenly, there were a thousand questions and possibilities that Harry had never considered before.

But most importantly, Ron Weasley, his best friend since the age of eleven, was getting married.

"Congratulations," Harry said. "She really is something else."

"She is. She certainly has a good sense about people, despite her refusal to accept that being emotional about things is acceptable sometimes."

"When did it happen?" Harry asked.

"A couple of weeks ago. Only my family knows at the moment," Ron said. "We're telling her family next weekend when we visit. I was going to tell you at your birthday party but things got out of hand pretty quickly that night."

"Yeah, they did."

Just like at the beginning of their conversation, an uncomfortable silence washed over the room. Harry looked down at his watch.

It had been fourteen minutes.

Harry looked up at Ron and noticed that he had been doing the same thing.

"So, are we…"

"We're not good, Harry," Ron said firmly. "You hurt me and you hurt my family, your family in a certain way. We can't forget that this happened and it's not something that's going to fade away easily."

Harry had always known that this was a possibility. Harry braced himself for the worst.

"But-"

But?

"But, we can rebuild. We rebuilt after the Goblet of Fire. We rebuilt after I left the Horcrux Hunt. Even though this is different, I owe it to you and to the years we put in together to give you the chance to put things right. I honestly believe that we can rebuild again. It's not going to be easy. I'm going to hate you for a while, dislike you for longer and maybe, if everything goes right, I'll like you again one day. Before even that begins, I'll need some time and some space to get things back in order before we try and restore what we've lost, but when the time comes, I do want to try."

Harry was on the verge of tears. Over the years, Harry's largest concern was that if Ron had ever discovered the truth about Harry's relationship with Hermione, he would simply walk away from Harry and never look back. Being given even a sliver of hope, the tiniest of chances that things could be put back together, that was all Harry needed and that's certainly all he could have asked for.

Ron stood, clearly indicating that their conversation was over for the time being. Harry was about to do the same when something suddenly whipped by his head, causing Harry to duck. Turning around, Harry saw that it was a small piece of parchment that had been enchanted to look like an owl. The paper owl darted around the room, bumping into the walls around them.

"What the hell is that?" Ron asked. Harry had no answer for him. They simply watched as the owl darted from one wall to the other, only stopping when it hit the wall. Eventually, the magic of the owl seemed to wear off and it slowly drifted down onto the table between the two of them.

Harry reached forward and grabbed the owl, opening it to find a short note on the inside.

_Mr. Potter,_

_I hope you have enjoyed your time off. Now, the real fun begins._

_You have twenty-four hours._

_P.S. Home is where the heart is._

Harry turned the paper over, looking for more information, but he found nothing. Twenty-four hours? For what? And what did that postscript even mean? Harry began to cast a few detection charms on the paper, hoping to reveal more information. After the third spell, the paper suddenly got very warm, forcing Harry to drop it onto the table where it immediately caught on fire. In moments, the paper was engulfed in flames and it didn't take much longer for the flames to reduce the paper to ash.

And that's when Harry noticed something very out of the ordinary. The ash itself didn't simply rest on the table. The moment the paper began to break down, the ash started reforming itself into something new: a lock of hair. Once the fire went out, Harry reached down and picked up the hair. It was almost black, almost the same color as his own, but the hair was much longer than Harry's was.

"Is that hair?" Ron asked.

"Yes."

"Why did someone send you hair?"

"I'm not certain," Harry said, a feeling of worry creeping into his throat. He had a day to figure something out and this was clearly his only clue.

What was it?

It was at that moment that the hair gave Harry the clue: it changed color. Within just a couple seconds, the hair went from black to almost white with a few hints of grey. The hair changed color, Harry realized in horror. The only person that he knew could do that was…

"Teddy?" Ron asked. "Is the letter from Legion?"

Harry nodded, fear washing over him. Harry had felt hopeless in the past, but he had always been able to work through it. But this was different. The gauntlet had been laid down: Harry Potter had one day to find his godson.

If he failed, the child would certainly die.

Harry's legs gave out at that thought and he collapsed onto the floor. Almost immediately, Ron was at his side, making sure that he was alright. While Harry attempted to collect himself, Ron stood and began to pace. Eventually, he turned back to Harry.

"What do we do?"

Of all the things that Ron could have said in that moment, that was not what Harry had expected.

"What?"

"Legion has Teddy. We need to find him. How do we do that? What do we do?"

Harry was confused.

"You're going to help?"

At that comment, Ron reached down and grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt, dragging him to his feet and slamming him against the wall behind him.

"You and I may have problems but Teddy is ten, Harry. Do you think I could live with myself if there was something that I could have done to help him, but I didn't because I was too pissed at you? Now, what do we need to do?"

Harry's mind raced, albeit with the speed of someone who had accidentally stepped into a tar pit. What could they do? There were a lot of things that they could do, but before they did that, there was one person that they needed to bring into the loop.

"We need to go see Hermione."


	17. Home Sweet Home

Harry and Ron immediately left The Jester, heading for Hermione's home in London. Unfortunately, when they arrived, she was not there. Knowing that Harry would be accosted on sight, Ron instead approached the Aurors, asking for Hermione's location. Not surprisingly, they refused to tell him.

Considering it was a Monday night, there was only one other place that Hermione could be: The Ministry of Magic, which unfortunately presented its own problems. Ron was no longer a Ministry employee and Harry was suspended indefinitely, which meant that technically neither of them had access to the Ministry.

Of course, with Teddy in imminent danger, nothing was going to stop Harry. Harry and Ron immediately Apparated to the Apparition point in the Atrium. The moment they landed, an alarm went off, signalling that someone had Apparated into the Ministry who didn't have the proper credentials. Immediately, two Hit Wizards tasked with guarding the Atrium approached them.

"Sir, we regret to inform you that you and Mr. Weasley are going to have to leave," the first Hit Wizard said, his wand already in his hand and twitching nervously.

"I need to speak with Hermione Granger," Harry said as he attempted to push past the Hit Wizards. As Harry moved, so too did the Hit Wizards, sliding to match his movements and raising their wands at the same time.

"Sir, as you know, you have been suspended from duty. As a result, you are not allowed access to any part of the Ministry of Magic without prior authorization and entrance through the Guest Entrance."

Harry didn't have time for this. He stepped forward past the wand of the Hit Wizard who had spoken and grabbed the collar of his jacket, bringing his face to within inches of Harry's.

"Listen to me: I am going to see Hermione Granger. If you don't step out of my way, I will not hesitate to stun you and anyone else who tries to stop me."

"Harry…" Ron said gently, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry ignored him.

"Now, you can get out of my way and I can go about my business or you can try and stop me again and I'll be forced to put you down."

"There's two of us, sir," the Hit Wizard replied. "You'll never get past us."

"Are you willing to bet on that?" Harry growled back as he noticed that everyone in the Atrium had stopped to stare at him. Whatever happened, this was already going to be a news story. But there was a chance that Harry would be painted as a madman if he kept going.

Harry found that, in that particular moment, he didn't care if the rest of the wizarding world thought he was insane. The only thing he cared about was getting Teddy back.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw the other Hit Wizard twist his wand, the first sign of his impending attack. Harry reached up with his other hand, placing both of his hands on the robes of the Hit Wizard in his arms and turning. The Stunner that the other Wizard fired hit his comrade in the back, knocking him unconscious. Rather than trying to support his weight in his arms, Harry instead tossed the unconscious man at his ally, drawing his wand moments after he did so. While the other Hit Wizard was able to dodge his partner, he was not able to dodge the Stunner that Harry fired at him, which knocked him back to the floor.

Harry knew that he was out of time. Rather than wait for another squad of Hit Wizards to show up, Harry turned and sprinted towards the lift that would take him to Hermione's office, Ron following just behind him. As they ran, Harry could already hear the sounds of boots on the floor, likely a team of Hit Wizards following the men that had just attacked their allies.

When Harry reached the lift, he turned around to see nearly a dozen Hit Wizards tailing them, all of whom began firing at him the moment they were in range. While the doors closed, Harry and Ron easily deflected the few spells that even managed to slip their way through the closing doors.

Once the doors were shut, Harry and Ron each collapsed against opposite walls, readying themselves for what they knew would be coming on the other side of the door when it opened.

Sure enough, when the doors separated, half a dozen Aurors stood on the other side, all of them with their wands drawn. Of course, the moment they saw that their mystery attacker was their boss, their resolve broke. Two of them lowered their wands entirely while three more looked side to side to see what action they would take.

Only Collin Law, Harry's least favorite Senior Auror, stood strong.

"Sir, I need you to drop your wand."

Harry had disliked Law, but this moment proved why. If he had simply allowed Harry to continue going through the Ministry, he would have proved himself loyal to his superior officer. If he had immediately attacked Harry, he would have proven himself loyal to the rule of law and the Ministry of Magic.

Instead, he _asked_ Harry to drop his wand like the coward he was.

So, Harry easily Disarmed him with a single flourish of his wand before shoving the whiny Auror to the floor. Behind him, Harry thought he heard Ron chuckle at the ease with which Harry dispatched one of his own Senior Aurors.

Thankfully, none of the other Aurors followed Harry and Ron, allowing them to run the length of the hallway to Hermione's office. Rather than wait for permission to enter, Harry grabbed the door handle and pulled hard as if he were trying to pull the door of its hinges.

Once the door was open, Harry saw that the situation that he found himself in was about to go from bad to worse. Hermione was in her office and she wasn't alone. Seated across from her was Kingsley Shacklebolt and Amos Diggory, the Minister of Magic and his Senior Undersecretary. Within seconds, Harry and Ron found themselves surrounded by no less than twenty Aurors.

Harry was likely the best defensive duelist in the country, if not the world, and even those odds would have been too much.

Hermione stood and raised her hand, ordering the Aurors to halt whatever attack they may have been considering. While they didn't attack Harry or Ron, none of them lowered their wands.

"Harry, what the hell are you doing here?" Hermione asked calmly, although he could see a certain anger in her eyes that Harry rarely found directed at himself.

"I need your help," Harry said breathlessly.

"And it's that desperate that you felt the need to break into the Ministry of Magic?" Hermione said. "You could have set up an appointment with me."

"I don't have time for an appointment," Harry growled. "I need to talk to you now!"

At that, the Aurors all simultaneously took a step closer to Harry, who was becoming increasingly desperate as the moments passed that Harry had not returned Teddy to his grandmother.

Again, Hermione raised her hand, halting any further action from the Aurors.

"Fine," Hermione said before looking back at one of the other Aurors. "Get Senior Auror Andrews."

It turned out that Elaina had been just a few feet away, commanding the unit that surrounded Harry and Ron. She stepped past Harry, her eyes never meeting his.

"Harry and Ron, step inside and close the door," Hermione said. When Elaina began to speak up, Hermione cut her off. "You are here to ensure that nothing untoward happens, Auror Andrews. If that is not satisfactory with you, you can consider yourself dismissed."

Elaina looked as if she considered leaving for a moment. But when she finally looked at Harry, something seemed to change her mind and she immediately moved to stand between Harry and Ron and the door, blocking any chance they would have to escape. Clearly, Elaina still had concerns that Harry was the one who had been behind the attacks, even if they had provided ample evidence to the contrary.

Of course, considering Harry's state at the moment, he supposed that he should haven't blamed her for that.

"Alright, Harry, what the hell is going on?"

Ignoring the look that Elaina and the others were giving him, Harry turned back to Hermione.

"Legion took Teddy."

As expected, that got a reaction from everyone in the room, except for Elaina.

"Who is Teddy?" she asked in confusion.

"Theodore Lupin is my godson," Harry explained before turning back to Hermione. "I got a note from Legion telling him that I had twenty-four hours to find him."

"Or what?" Hermione asked.

"What do you think!?" Harry bellowed. "Legion's whole reason for existing seems to be to torture me. He's going to kill him!"

"Harry, I need you to calm down," Elaina said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, Harry grabbed that arm, turning around and in a single motion, took Elaina's wand from her other hand and slammed her against the door before sticking her wand to her chin.

"I'll calm down when I've found my godson!" Harry barked. "Now, keep your hands off me or I'll be forced to do something."

"Harry!" Kingsley said, standing in response to Harry's threat. "Stand down!"

Harry hesitated for just a moment, although he knew that he had no choice. So, he threw Elaina's wand on the ground before turning back to Hermione.

"I need to be reinstated."

"That's not going to happen," Amos said. "We're still weeks away from a verdict on the investigation into your conflict of interest. As it is, Miss Granger should consider herself lucky that she has a job."

"That's not a part of this conversation," Kingsley replied before turning back to Harry. "There is a lingering concern that your relationship with Hermione will impact your ability to work with her."

"Excuse me?" Harry replied.

"Harry, you favor those people closest to you. You cannot contest this fact. It was one of the only concerns that I had when Hermione appointed you as Head Auror. You almost immediately proved willing to circumvent normal rules and regulations in your working relationship with Hermione. That doesn't even begin to account for the obvious conflict of interest that your private relationship created."

Hearing Kingsley talk about his private relationship with Hermione while Ron was in the room would normally have caused Harry more stress. At the moment, however, he doubted that he could feel more stress than he currently felt.

"Then make someone else Head Auror or have me report to someone else," Harry suggested. "Honestly, right now, I don't care about rules and regulations, Kingsley."

"You'll refer to the Minister of Magic as such," Elaina interrupted, which nearly caused Harry to turn and Stun her. Only a pointed look from Hermione stopped him.

"And that right there is why we can't have you in the Ministry right now," Kingsley replied, ignoring Elaina's comment. "I understand that you are worried about Teddy. But we have procedures for a reason. It's because they work. I'm certain that Senior Auror Dawlish will manage to bring Teddy back home."

At that, Harry laughed coldly.

"Kingsley, I didn't know you were such a damned coward."

Immediately, Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and a wand at his back, which forced Harry to fulfill his promise. Unfortunately for Elaina, Harry was not only a skilled duelist, but more than willing to fight dirty. Rather than reaching for his wand, Harry simply turned and threw an elbow, which hit her in the side of the head, throwing her off balance. Harry's whole body followed his elbow as he drew his wand and Stunned Elaina.

Every other wand in the room, excluding Ron's, was drawn, all of them aimed at Harry.

"Harry, stand down!" Hermione shouted.

"You are going to let Paul Dawlish try and bring Legion in?" Harry asked. "Dawlish couldn't bring me in, let alone Legion."

"I have faith in him," Kingsley said coldly.

"And you don't have that same faith in me? Why? Because I'm not willing to accept your bullshit?" Harry growled, the rage that Harry had felt building inside of him finally bursting out.

"Fine. If you don't want to help me, then I don't have to stand by you anymore."

"What does that mean?" Kingsley asked.

"I quit," Harry snapped back. "If you won't help me find Teddy, then I'll do it myself and I will kill anyone who gets in my way!"

The room instantly went silent as everyone else looked at Harry, stunned at the clear threat of violence that came out of his mouth.

"You don't mean that," Kingsley said, his voice soft and gentle.

"HE TOOK MY GODSON!" Harry cried out. "I will do whatever it takes to get him back. If you aren't going to help me, then you had better stay out of my way."

Kingsley lowered his wand and stepped forward.

"We can't have you running around the countryside, burning and pillaging everything in your way until you find Teddy."

It wasn't a threat, but a plea to Harry, a plea to calm down. But Harry wasn't hearing that. It was clear to Harry now that Kingsley wasn't going to support Harry in finding Teddy. In fact, it seemed as if Kingsley was more interested in law and order than in finding a ten-year-old boy. The man that Harry knew in the past would have never chosen to simply support the Ministry, even at the risk of finding a child.

But like most everyone who worked at the Ministry for any significant length of time, it either changed you or you left in frustration. Clearly, the Ministry had changed Kingsley, which made Harry's choice much easier.

"Then you've made your choice."

With a quick flick, both Amos and Kingsley went flying against the far wall, Stunned into unconsciousness. Harry turned to Ron, his wand leveled at him.

"Well?" Harry asked.

"Well, what?"

"Are you with them or with me?"

Ron paused for a moment, considering the three unconscious people in the room. Clearly, Ron was uncomfortable with how unhinged Harry seemed to have become. But in the end, Ron made his choice. 

"I'm with you, mate."

Harry turned to Hermione. There was so much he wanted to say to her, even if Ron was in the room. But before he could say anything, Hermione spoke up.

"Stun me."

"Excuse me?"

"Stun me. If you don't, they'll assume that I'm working with you. It's the only way that I can continue to pass you information."

"They'll still suspect that you're working with me."

"Of course they will, but this will at least give me a chance to deny those accusations."

Harry hated having to do it, but he knew that she was right. Harry stepped over Elaina's unconscious body and placed a small kiss on Hermione's cheek.

"I love you," Harry said nervously, knowing that Ron was watching.

Hermione, for her part, didn't hesitate for a moment.

"I love you too, Harry. Now, do it and get out of here."

"Fine," Harry said before raising his wand and silently Stunning Hermione. The force was less powerful than the others had been, but it was still enough to lift her off her feet and throw her against the wall where she then landed on top of Amos.

"Mate, we have to move," Ron said, looking out the window of Hermione's office into the Auror bullpen where a team of Aurors were waiting.

"We'll be fine," Harry said as he opened the top drawer of Hermione's desk and pulled out a key. "We have this."

"What's that?"

"A key to one of the Ministry's Safe Houses. I put it here in case Legion ever came after Hermione. She could get out without having to escape back to the Apparition point."

"Well, it seems like a good thing for us to use now."

"That's the point," Harry said as he walked across the room and took Ron's hand before pressing the button that took them immediately to Safe House Two, a small house located on the edge of London. Thankfully, there were no Aurors assigned to the house at the moment, which meant that Harry and Ron were able to slip out without anyone noticing.

Having Stunned the Minister of Magic, Senior Undersecretary, and the Head of the DMLE (albeit at her request) in a single moment, Harry knew that the Ministry of Magic would no longer support him moving forward. Even if they caught or destroyed Legion somehow, there was little to no chance that Harry could go back to the Ministry after the stunt he pulled today.

Of course, with the way Kingsley treated Harry today, Harry wasn't certain that he would have wanted to go back anyway. Kingsley knew better than anyone that sometimes, leaving things to rules, regulations, and procedures only ensured that nothing happened. Sometimes, when someone's life was on the line, you threw out the rule book, especially when that someone was a ten-year-old boy and the son of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks.

Kingsley had been right about one thing: Harry did favor Hermione, even at the expense of his job. That was how things had been for years and the moment that Hermione had joined him, it had become much easier to simply work with Hermione and cut everyone else out of the process. He knew that Hermione was needed at the Ministry. She would be the Minister of Magic one day and revolutionize it, inside and out.

Meanwhile, Harry would always be trying to begrudgingly play by the rules, knowing that he would do better work outside of them. Whatever the future held for Harry, the only thing he knew was that his life would no longer involve the Ministry of Magic. But considering the fact that Harry was still looking for a way to beat Legion, that was a problem for another day.

Once the pair of them were clear of the Safe House, they raced out the front door and began dodging down side streets. Harry was relatively certain that Hermione would be able to prevent Kingsley from sending Aurors after Harry and Ron, but Harry was taking no chances at the moment.

"What do we do now?" Ron finally asked after fifteen minutes of weaving through the city streets.

"I have no idea," Harry grumbled in frustration. "I told Andromeda and Teddy to get out of town weeks ago. I didn't know where they went or how they got there."

"Did anyone help them?"

"I don't think so," Harry said. "I told Andromeda that no one could know where they were going. But, the fact that Andromeda hasn't reached out to us isn't a good sign."

"I agree," Ron replied. "So what do you want to do?"

Harry had no leads and no ideas for leads. But he knew that he couldn't do nothing, because that would only make him feel useless. Then, Harry had an idea. It wouldn't help them with their immediate problem, but it would allow Harry to do something while trying to come up with something, anything that would lead them to Legion.

"Come with me," Harry said as he grabbed Ron by the arm and turned, Apparating from the back alley they had been hiding in to the ancestral home of the Malfoy family. Ron immediately began to protest, but Harry ignored him as he charged to the front door and pounded on it.

Seconds later, the door opened and Harry pushed through it, leaving a confused Narcissa Malfoy in his wake as he nearly sprinted across the entrance hall and the main living room before climbing the stairs and charging into Malfoy's office unannounced.

As expected, Malfoy, who had taken to working from home once he had joined Harry's team, was sitting at his desk, going through old scrolls of parchment. It was obvious that he was researching something, but Harry couldn't tell what it was. The only thing he could immediately tell is that nothing on his desk seemed to pertain to The Arch.

"What the hell are we doing here?" Ron asked as they finally came to a stop on the opposite side of Malfoy's desk.

"I would like to know the answer to that question as well, Weasley," Malfoy responded, looking up at Harry and Ron coldly.

"My godson was taken by Legion," Harry replied. "I have roughly twenty-hours to figure out where he is. I have no leads and no clues as to where he is."

The look on Malfoy's face was strange. It almost looked like he was concerned.

"I am sorry about your godson," Malfoy said with genuine authenticity, "but I don't know what it has to do with me."

"I know that Bill Weasley gave you an Ogham key for the runes on the Arch. I need to know that you've made progress on that. I don't know how, but I'm going to find Teddy and once I've done that, I need to know that we can capture him again."

The moment that Harry mentioned the Arch, Malfoy's eyes dropped to the parchment in front of him. Harry had become incredibly skilled at reading people over the years. It was part of his initial training with the Aurors and just a natural extension of his ability to sense people's true intentions.

This was not a good sign.

"Potter, since your suspension, I've been unable to get into Tartarus."

"What?"

"Welles informed me that since I was working on loan with you, and since you are temporarily suspended from the Ministry, all access that I gained to the Tartarus Chamber was rescinded until you were reinstated."

Harry could feel himself bubbling deep within, rage threatening to overwhelm him again. He turned away from Malfoy's desk and began pacing the room. Harry thought that by giving Bill the right information, that meant that progress had been made on the Arch.

But for weeks, nothing had happened.

Harry snapped back to face Malfoy.

"I need you to go to the Ministry right now and I need you to start transcribing those runes."

"As you can tell, Potter, I am busy with other things," Malfoy replied, "not to mention the fact that you are still suspended."

"Busy with other things? Honestly, you twit, what is more important than this right now? Take my godson out of the equation. If Legion gets through all of my family and eventually kills me, who does it settle on next? If it gets through me, it could take down the entire wizarding world as we know it."

"You think too highly of yourself," Malfoy snapped.

Harry slammed his hands on Malfoy's desk. "I think of myself exactly as I am. I was the most gifted Auror since Moody himself. I brought in most of the remaining Death Eaters, some of them single-handedly. Now, if you want to get into a pissing match with me over whether or not I'm a good wizard, we can do that after we capture Legion."

Malfoy leaned back in his chair, observing Harry silently for a few moments, before shaking his head.

"Listen, Potter, I would like to help you, I really would. But with your suspension, the only people who can order me to do this would be Welles or Shacklebolt. I just don't have the authority to do that."

At that, Harry finally snapped. He drew his wand and lifted it up above Malfoy's head, aiming it at the floor to ceiling portrait of Lucius Malfoy.

" _Incendio!"_

Immediately, the entire portrait caught fire, causing the version of Lucius Malfoy in the portrait to attempt to blow the fire out to no avail. Malfoy froze for a moment before reaching for his wand, but Harry was quicker, Disarming Malfoy. His wand flew up into the air and into Harry's outstretched hand.

"Merlin, I forgot how much of a self-centered coward you are. Of course, you learned that from your pathetic father so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

"Don't talk about my father like that!" Malfoy barked.

"I'll talk about your father however I damn well please. Your father was a shoddy wizard, a despicable father, and an even worse person. What's amazing is that you seemed to have inherited all those traits, but you aren't any good at any of them. You're a worse wizard, I have no doubt you'll be a shit father, and you don't seem to be a bad person, just pathetically apathetic."

"The last time I was here, I told you that if you wanted my forgiveness for all of the terrible things that you had done, then you needed to do something. At the time, I wondered whether you actually wanted that or whether you were just posturing, making yourself look better than you are. You've only been doing that since the day I've known you so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that it was, in fact, all posturing in the end."

"It was not posturing," Malfoy replied quietly, finally stepped away as pieces of the portrait began falling from the ceiling. As Malfoy spoke, Harry did a quick charm on the walls of the room, ensuring that they would not burn, just the image of Lucius Malfoy.

"Then prove it," Harry countered. "Prove that you are a better man than your scumbag father. Take a risk for someone other than yourself, Malfoy. That's the only way you'll gain my respect and the only way that you'll come to respect yourself."

"If you can't do that, then you'll be the son that Lucius Malfoy always wanted."

Harry turned and marched towards the door, leaving Malfoy standing in a stunned silence. Before he and Ron left, Harry turned back to Malfoy.

"Get me that information, Malfoy. I want it within the next day. If you can't do that, then I'll burn your whole fucking house down."

Suddenly, Ron grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him from the room. In fact, it wasn't until they were outside and Ron Apparated the pair of them back to Harry's home in the mountains that he let go.

"What the hell?" Harry barked as he finally managed to get free of Ron's grasp.

"Listen, I get it. I want to burn Malfoy's house down as much as anyone," Ron said, slightly out of breath from having dragged Harry out of Malfoy Manor. "But you have no chance of stopping Legion and no chance of finding Teddy if you can't stop and think about what you're doing."

"I don't want to stop and think. I just want to find him!"

"And you can't do that if you're in Azkaban! Just today, you've attacked the three most powerful people in the country and set fire to an admittedly shitty portrait. We both know that you being you means that you'll likely get a pass on some of this stuff. But if you keep this up, eventually even Hermione is going to have to come after you, which is exactly what Legion wants!"

Ron was right and Harry knew it. Harry took a deep breath and then collapsed into one of his kitchen chairs. Ron went to the tap in the kitchen and filled a large glass with water, setting it down in front of Harry.

"Now, think. Legion wants you to find Teddy. He wouldn't make it impossible, right?"

"I don't think so. The whole point is that I could be as powerful or as clever as I wanted and I would never be able to keep up with him," Harry replied before downing nearly half the glass in a single swallow.

"He could make all of you disappear without even trying, but that's not the point. The point is that he wants to be found. He wants to show off."

"Then he had to have left you some kind of clue," Ron replied. "The only thing we have is the hair and the letter."

"Which I can't read anymore," Harry pointed out, "and I think the hair was simply so that I knew he had taken Teddy."

"That means that the letter has to be the hint. What did it say?" Ron asked.

"It just told me that I had twenty-four hours," Harry replied before a thought suddenly popped into his head. "Home is where the heart is."

"What's that?"

"That was the postscript on the letter. _Home is where the heart is._ "

"Do you think that means his home?" Ron asked.

Harry's mind had been so derailed by the revelation that Teddy had been taken that he had never really stopped to think about that postscript. But the moment that Ron had suggested that the "home" mentioned was the Tonks' home, Harry couldn't believe that he had never thought of that himself.

They could have gotten to him nearly an hour ago.

"That's got to be it," Harry said in frustration. "I can't believe I didn't think of that earlier."

"Your mind has got a lot going on right now. You can't be expected to think of everything."

"I suppose," Harry replied as he stood. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, I'm coming."

Harry and Ron stepped outside of Harry's house and into the cool night air. Before they left, Harry turned to Ron.

"Listen, thanks for helping out. I...I don't think I would have found him if it weren't for you."

"Let's just focus on getting Teddy back," Ron replied. "We can talk more once this is over."

"I just want you to know-"

"Later," Ron said as he held up his hand for Harry to grab. "You ready?"

Harry was not ready, but he knew that he needed to be ready. Teddy was relying on him. So rather than focus on the fear that was bubbling underneath the surface, Harry pushed it aside, took Ron's hand and Apparated the both of them to Andromeda and Teddy's home.

Immediately, Harry knew that Ron had been right. While the house was not on fire, it was clear that parts of it had been at one point. The roof on the back part of the house had collapsed in and the back porch that looked over the moor had been ripped clean off.

Harry drew his wand and walked in through the back door. The interior of the house was in an even worse state than the exterior. Almost every wall of the home had been at least partially demolished, if not entirely destroyed, leaving the house as effectively one large room. Where the walls remained, they seemed to be coated in blood, a sight that nearly caused Harry to vomit at the thought that it was Teddy's blood.

"Merlin, Harry, look."

Harry turned to Ron, whose face was even paler than usual. He was pointing at a pile of rubble in the center of what used to be the kitchen. At first, Harry couldn't see why Ron had pointed it out.

Then, he looked under the pile where he saw a leg sticking out from under the pile of wood and tile. It clearly belonged to Andromeda.

Or at least it had before it had been forcibly removed. The top of the leg had bone sticking straight out of it, while the flesh appeared to have been ripped away. It suggested that the leg had simply been ripped away from the rest of her body, an awful thought.

But the worst part of it was that as Harry looked away from the pile to try and compose himself, he saw a chair. This chair was no different than the one that Dudley had been placed in, except for the fact that it was much smaller.

Small enough for a ten-year-old boy.

A pile of rope and shackles covered the seat. Certainly, they had ensured that Teddy couldn't move. Much like Dudley, Teddy had been forced to watch while Legion had tortured his loved one, in this case, his grandmother.

Over the next several minutes, Harry and Ron found the rest of Andromeda scattered around the house. Both her arms and legs had been removed from her torso before Legion had healed the wound that they had left, preventing her from bleeding out. The marks on her head and torso suggested that much of the destruction of the house had been caused by her body being flung about the house. A quick check of her torso suggested that every single one of her ribs had been broken and her skull had more fractures than he could count.

Still, because of the fact that Legion had staunched most of the bleeding, she had likely lived for quite some time before her body finally gave out.

All the while, Teddy Lupin sat in a chair in the corner, unable to do anything but watch as his grandmother was tortured and then killed.

"Harry."

Harry forced himself to look away from the mess of blood and limbs and down at the framed painting on the floor. Unlike everything else in the house, this was clean as if it had been placed there intentionally. Ron picked up the painting and held it in front of the two of them.

The painting was of an old Gothic-style house that stood on a hill in the center of a small, quaint town. Harry felt a deep sense of familiarity with the portrait. He supposed that the house had a similar vibe to that of Malfoy Manor, cold and distant and proudly opulent.

A winding lane wrapped itself around the hill up to the massive front gates, which had to have been nearly thirty feet tall. In the back, you can just see what appeared to be a few headstones of a cemetery.

"It's a Muggle painting," Ron pointed out. "Nothing's moving."

Something about this portrait was off and Harry was certain that it was the next clue to Teddy's location, another step in the game that Legion was forcing him to play. Harry had to fight back the urge to throw the painting. He hadn't considered the fact that Legion might lead him to more than one place. In fact, he had been fairly certain that his faceoff with Legion would take place in this very room.

Instead, he had walked in to discover that his godson had been forced to watch as his grandmother had been forcibly dismembered and then tossed about the house like a rag doll.

Harry nearly walked away from the painting before he noticed something on the front gate, a single letter on each of the gates.

The letter R.

Harry's mind immediately put the pieces together. The house seemed familiar, not because of its similarities to Malfoy Manor, but because he had been there before. In the portrait, the sun was high in the sky.

But the night that Harry had been there, the sky had been dark, except for a smattering of stars, largely due to the billowing smoke that poured out of the cauldron that sat in the center of the graveyard.

"It's the Riddle house," Harry whispered, almost to himself.

"What?"

"This house. This is the Riddle House. It's where Riddle's father grew up."

"That's where you-"

"Watched his son regain his body, yes," Harry replied, his teeth grinding against each other even as he spoke. This was another part of the game. Force Harry to relive his worst memories while creating new ones.

"That's where Teddy is?" Ron asked.

"I'm sure of it. It's a Muggle painting, right? The Riddles were Muggles. It seems like Legion left this here specifically for me to find it."

"For us to find it."

Harry turned to Ron. "No, unfortunately, you don't register for him, except as someone to use to hurt me."

"You sure know how to make a guy feel wanted," Ron replied. "Don't worry, I'm not offended that the immortal demon doesn't want anything to do with me. Now, are we going or what?"

Harry took the portrait from Ron and held it in his hands. Harry hadn't really considered what he would do if he caught up with Legion. Ever since he had gotten the letter, he had simply been running on instinct, chasing one clue to the next.

Harry was certain that Riddle House was the end of the line. Teddy was there with Legion and they were both waiting for him.

"Ron, you can't come with me."

Harry turned to Ron, whose face was plastered with confusion.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"First, I need someone to go get Hermione and let her know where to go."

"And we can do that together and then all three of us go."

"I'm not letting either of you get anywhere near Legion," Harry replied. "He doesn't want to kill me, not yet. But the two of you won't be off limits to him. If you show up, he'll kill you."

"If you go there by yourself, he'll kill you instead," Ron countered.

"No, he won't. He's obsessed with me. He hasn't caused me enough pain yet. He still has you and Hermione and Neville and Luna to get through. Hell, the worst case scenario is that he doesn't kill you, he captures you. You saw what he did to Andromeda. He'll do the same to you, if not worse."

Ron took a few steps away from Harry, rubbing his hands through his hair in frustration. Harry knew that Ron wouldn't take this well. In fact, if he had thought about it earlier, he would have simply abandoned Ron at the Ministry. But given the fact that Ron had come this far with him, and the tenuous nature of their relationship at the moment, Harry knew that he owed him an explanation.

"Listen, all I need to do is get in and get out. I don't have any intention to fight Legion."

"That's nice," Ron snapped back. "I'm sure he shares that same sentiment."

"I'm not asking, Ron," Harry said, which caused Ron to turn back to Harry.

"I'm not abandoning you to die in that house."

"You're not. I'm going to be fine and I'm going to get Teddy out," Harry replied as he tossed the Safe House key to Ron. "Get Hermione and have her meet me outside the house. If something goes wrong, you can storm the place and get me out."

"You mean when it goes wrong! Harry, this is insane. I'm not going to let you walk to your death."

"I wasn't asking," Harry said as he turned on the spot. As Harry began to switch between Andromeda's house and Little Hangleton, he could see Ron attempt to reach out to him. It was unfortunate for Ron that he was just a bit too slow, anchored down by the Slowing Charm that Harry had cast on the key behind his back before tossing it to Ron.

Harry knew that Ron was going to be furious. He knew that Hermione would likely be even more angry, but Harry wasn't about to risk either of them, or anyone else for that matter, on this part of the mission. Harry had earned some sort of strange immunity from Legion for the time being and he was going to use that to his advantage.

When Harry landed at The Riddle House, a wave of memories rushed over him. Only a few feet away from him was the headstone marked "Tom Riddle," the same one that Harry had been tied to as a fourteen-year-old. Not so far in the distance was the house that Harry had entered in his dreams months earlier, although he hadn't known it at the time.

The sun had finally set over the horizon, leaving Harry alone in the dark of the graveyard. Thankfully, the night sky was clear and the moon and stars lit the way towards the house. With his wand out, Harry raced across the graveyard to the backdoor of the house, which was already open. Clearly, Legion knew that Harry was coming.

Once Harry was inside, he was surprised to see that torches had been lit in the hallway. However, about halfway down the hallway, the torches seemed to turn. As Harry turned down the path and noticed another bend in the trail that the torches were lighting, Harry realized that this was Legion leading him to Teddy. He would have known that Harry would have Apparated to the graveyard as it was the only memory he had of this place. From there, he would enter that door and so the torches would guide him.

Eventually, they lead him up a set of stairs and into a small sitting room, the same one that Riddle and Wormtail had colluded in well over a decade earlier. The fireplace was already lit, a massive fire roaring inside of it. The light from the fire nearly washed out the frame of the young boy sitting in front of it, tied to a chair once more.

Harry sprinted towards Teddy, coming to kneel in front of him, the light of the fireplace reflecting his face. Teddy looked as if his very life had been drained from him. He was alive, but his cheeks were gaunt and his breathing labored. Harry waved his wand over Teddy a few times, casting a series of diagnostic spells that told Harry exactly what he had feared: Teddy had been drained of his magic. With rest, his magic would eventually be restored, but if any more had been taken, he would have died.

Harry was in the process of untying Teddy's wrists when his hands suddenly froze. A moment later, he found himself thrown across the room and pinned to the far wall. Legion stepped out of the shadows in the far end of the room, its hand outstretched as it held Harry against the wall. But this time, it wore a different face.

" _Do you like my new look?"_ Legion asked, its voice echoing inside Harry's head. Apparently, Teddy heard it as well because the moment Legion spoke, Teddy cried out.

"You...monster," Harry growled as a rage that he had never felt before built up within him. Legion walked across the room, ignoring Teddy, until it was only a few inches away from him, the sneering image of Andromeda Tonks staring him in the eye. The only thing that seemed out of place was that horrible smile and a necklace that it wore around its neck, bearing the image of a raven.

For some reason, Harry felt as if he had seen that necklace before. Currently, he had bigger problems than a mysterious necklace.

" _Yes, Mr. Potter, we've already established that,"_ Legion said mockingly. " _It was really quite foolish of you to come here alone. I know why you would, of course, but you wouldn't actually believe that young Mr. Lupin here was going to come out of here alive, could you?"_

Harry ignored Legion, instead focusing all of his energy on his fingers. Harry had a theory about the kind of influence that Legion wielded on another person. Much like his other abilities, Legion seemed to have an affinity for the manipulation of matter. It's why it seemed as if he could move the world around him without a wand.

Of course, this was all just a working theory, one that Harry would have to put to the test.

Harry focused on the wand in his hand and the very muscles, joints, tendons and bone that made up his hand. He felt his magic in it, but unlike any other time where the magic seemingly coursed through his body, the magic in his hand, and the rest of his body, seemed frozen. This was clearly Legion's influence on Harry's body working on him.

While Legion continued talking, telling him more about how much of a fool Harry was for not having brought back-up with him, Harry used Occlumency to keep his thoughts at bay for the time being while he channeled every bit of magic in his body to his wand hand. The process was slow and painful, especially since Harry had never tried anything like this before. But he had every reason to believe that it would work. There had been stories of witches and wizards who channeled magic into specific parts of their body, allowing them to run faster, hit harder, or see further.

In this case, Harry was using all of his magic in a single point of his body to try and overrule Legion's influence. Slowly, Harry felt control return to his hand, although he dared not reveal that fact to Legion, who seemed to be having far too much fun talking to notice that Harry had managed to wrest control of a single body part from him.

It wasn't until Harry had complete control that Legion noticed. Something about the shift in power must have triggered something in him as he stopped talking and immediately shifted his attention to Harry's hand, which was flying away from the wall and towards Legion.

Legion attempted to press Harry back again, but without the control of his hand, Harry was able to fire a Banishing Charm that sent Legion flying across the room. The effect was particularly powerful because almost every ounce of magic that Harry possessed had been channeled into that spell. Harry would recover relatively quickly, but Legion would certainly bound back quicker.

That's why Harry decided to take decisive action. No longer pressed against the wall, Harry lumbered forward, his wand raised as he made his move.

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

In all his years with a wand, Harry had never once cast the curse, even if he had thought about it. As the power of the spell ran through Harry's body before leaving, he felt all of his rage and anger channel itself into a single, fixed point at the end of his wand before exploding in a jet of green light that dashed across the room and struck Legion in the chest.

Unlike any other time when Harry had seen the curse used, Legion didn't drop to the ground. Instead, it grunted and dropped to a knee. Almost immediately, it began to change, its face shifting further and further away from that of Andromeda Tonks and into another face that Harry recognized.

It was the man that Harry had seen when he had looked into Legion's mind. He was tall and angular with a closely trimmed blonde beard to match his cropped hair. One of his eyes appeared to be missing and had a large scar that cut across it.

Then, all at once, something seemed to change about it. Its face became twisted, almost as if it was trying to adopt several forms at the same time. The green light from the Killing Curse spread through its veins, causing its face to light up the dark room.

For the first time, it seemed like it was injured. It was also the first time that it hadn't been smiling at Harry, which Harry noticed only a moment before the room itself seemed to start shaking. Harry realized why Legion wasn't smiling.

It wasn't happy anymore.

Now, it was pissed off.

That was all Harry Potter, one of the world's most powerful wizards, had managed to do with a Killing Curse.

As the room shook, Harry attempted to make his way to Teddy, but found that he could no longer move again. Looking across the room, Harry saw Legion get to its feet and march towards Harry, suddenly seeming remarkably human.

Then, for the first time, Harry heard Legion speak. Its voice was dark and gravelly and yet airy at the same time, as if it were several voices in one.

" **Harry Potter, you are a brave man,"** Legion said as it stopped only inches away from him. " **In all my years, I never remember anyone being able to do that to me. Unfortunately, it's a trick you will only get to pull once."**

All at once, every fiber of Harry's being felt as if it were being pulled apart as Legion picked Harry up. Even through the pain, Harry saw that his own skin seemed to be glowing. Harry knew what Legion was doing. It was draining Harry of his magic to restore himself.

Despite everything that Harry tried, there was nothing he could do to resist. Within only a few seconds, the green light faded from Legion's skin and he was able to return to Andromeda's form.

Still, it remained unsmiling.

Then, Harry felt himself flung towards the wall of the room again. Only this time, he didn't stop. Instead, Harry felt bones break as he broke through a series of walls before finally slamming against the exterior wall of the house. Harry tried to fight for air but found that he couldn't breathe due to the pain he felt in his ribs.

While he didn't have access to his wand at the moment, he was certain that all of them were broken.

Then, before Harry could even try to catch his breath, he was suddenly flying through the air once more, traveling in reverse back towards Legion. However, he blew right past Legion and through another series of walls, again slamming into the far wall with a thud.

Now, Harry's vision had completely faded to black, his ears rang and he spit out blood and teeth. There wasn't a single part of his body that didn't feel as if it was broken.

But Legion wasn't done. Harry found himself once again being lifted into the air, this time far more gently than the previous two instances. Harry floated back to the main sitting room until he hovered just in front of Teddy.

" _You will not die, Harry Potter,"_ Legion said, the voice in his head noticeably different than the one he spoke with. " _I will keep you awake long enough so that you can watch me drain the life from your godson. Then, I will heal you and leave you here until someone finds you."_

Harry attempted to speak up, but couldn't open his mouth as his jaw was broken in several places. Instead, he screamed in agony, both for himself and for Teddy, as Legion turned and held out his hands, causing the same faint glow that Harry had seen in himself just moments earlier.

But at that moment, something unexpected happened. The door just behind where Teddy sat flew open with Hermione, Ron and a team of Aurors on the other side. Almost immediately, they raced into the room and surrounded Legion.

"Leave the boy alone!" Hermione shouted, her wand aimed directly at Legion.

Harry prayed that Legion would listen. Harry didn't know why he would. Even if there were a dozen people surrounding it, Legion likely had enough power to deal with all of them. Yet, much to his surprise, Legion smirked at the suddenly crowded room and then turned back to Harry.

" _I suppose I'll let you have this one. It'll only make it better next time."_

Then, in the blink of an eye, Legion simply vanished from the room. At the same time, the glow on Teddy's skin disappeared and Harry collapsed to the floor, finally slipping into unconsciousness.


	18. Change

The next time Harry opened his eyes, all he saw was white. White ceilings, white walls, white curtains. Even the floor was white. The next color he saw was red, although that was mostly red hair. Sitting around him in a circle were at least three people with red hair. Harry would have properly identified them but without his glasses, he was practically blind.

"Where am I?" Harry asked, his voice thick from a lack of use.

"St. Mungo's," came the unmistakable reply of Arthur Weasley. "You've been here for ten days."

Ten days? What the hell happened that he had been here ten days? Harry had no sooner asked that question in his mind when all of the memories of his last conscious moments came rushing back to him all at once. He had been attacked by Legion.

"Teddy!?" Harry shouted as he tried to sit up, only to find that motion caused excruciating pain.

"Rest, dear," Molly replied on Harry's right as Harry slowly slid back onto his pillow.

"What the hell happened to me?"

"Well, mate, you decided to go one on one with a god," George replied from somewhere down towards his feet. "Didn't go so well for you."

"Teddy is fine, by the way."

That voice was not one that Harry immediately recognized. Harry looked around and saw a bedside table to his right. Feeling around, he managed to find his glasses. When he looked up, he saw Arthur and Molly on his right, Bill, Ginny and George on his left.

Standing at the end of his bed was none other than Cho Davies, formerly Cho Chang, dressed in the typical attire of a St. Mungo's Healer.

"Cho?" Harry wheezed out, the effort of having leaned over nearly causing him to pass out.

"Technically it is supposed to be Healer Davies, but I suppose I can grant you a pass," Cho replied.

"Have you been-"

"I have been the Healer in charge of your case for the last week and a half, yes," Cho replied, easily anticipating his question. "As I said, Teddy is here and he is fine."

"Why is he still here?"

Cho opened her mouth to answer before closing it once more. Harry looked around the room and saw that no one wanted to make eye contact with him.

"What? What is it? What's the matter with him?" Harry said in a panic.

"Nothing is wrong with him," Arthur assured him. "He needed to be kept for observation until his magic had replenished itself."

"Did it?"

"His magic is just fine," Arthur replied. "Thankfully, he's young and so his magic restores itself very quickly. According to Healer Davies, his levels evened out a couple of days ago."

"Then why is he still here?" Harry questioned.

Again, no one would answer him. In fact, everyone seemed to find a place to look other than towards Harry. Why were they all acting so strangely? Clearly something out of the ordinary was going on. What was it?

It was right about then that Harry remembered that not only had Legion attacked Harry and Teddy, but he had outright killed Andromeda Tonks, Teddy's grandmother.

And legal guardian.

Teddy didn't have a guardian.

That's when he realized why they were being so strange. Teddy did, in fact, have a legal guardian.

It was Harry. That's why Teddy was still at St. Mungo's. Until Harry awoke, no one was able to do anything with him.

"Merlin…" Harry muttered to himself as he tried to come to grips with the fact that he was now Teddy's sole protector in the world. Certainly others would help, but when it came down to it, Harry was the only family he had left in this world.

"Once we get you healed up, we can take you to see him," Cho said, filling the awkward silence left by everyone else in the room.

Harry barely heard her. All he could think about were the pieces of Andromeda that they had found, pieces that Teddy watched get removed from his grandmother, one by one. Andromeda had been a great support for Harry over the years, someone who wasn't quite in his inner circle, but was arguably as close to Harry as anyone.

Now, she was gone and the little boy who blamed him for his parents' deaths, and whose grandmother's death could also easily be placed at Harry's feet, was Harry's responsibility.

If Harry was honest with him, children hadn't really been a thing he had ever been considering for himself. While he wasn't against the idea entirely, he had never put himself in a position where having children seemed like an option.

Now, Teddy was his.

"Harry?" Cho said quietly. It was clear based on her tone of voice that she had said his name more than once.

"Ah, yeah, sorry. Just...I don't know. Thinking, I guess."

"We all understand," Cho replied. "Now, before you can go see him, I have to heal you."

"Yeah, speaking of that," Harry said, eager to change the subject, "why haven't I been healed yet?"

Cho smiled at Harry, but he could tell that she was frustrated with the question. More than likely, the Weasleys had been asking a similar question for nearly two weeks now.

"As I told you friends here, when you were brought in, your body had almost entirely shut down. The amount of damage that you sustained, both internally and externally, was incredible. If you weren't a magical being, you would have most assuredly died."

"Instead, your body absorbed most of your magic so that you could stay alive. Once I saw how much damage had been done, I started running scans on your magical levels. Unfortunately, they were too low for us to do anything. Then, you slipped into a coma. At that point, it gets very dangerous to try and do any healing magic, because we can't be certain how your body will take to it."

"Long and short, we needed to wait for your magic to return and for you to wake up. Now that both of those things have happened, it shouldn't take more than an hour or two to get you back to normal."

"Great," Harry replied as Cho turned away to start prepping for the spellwork needed to cure Harry. At the same time, Arthur replaced Molly in the seat directly next to Harry.

"We'll help with Teddy anyway we can," Arthur said softly. "We know that right now is not the best time for this."

"I can't imagine losing a grandmother, especially one who was your parent, is good at any time."

"I meant for you."

"I honestly don't care about that," Harry replied. "That kid's been through hell. What might be an inconvenience to me doesn't really matter at this point."

"Well, like I said, Molly and I will help however we can, especially until this whole thing is over," Arthur said before leaning in further so that no one else would overhear them. "By the way, you've been officially cleared in your cousin's murder."

That was not the news that Harry was expecting.

"How?"

"Six Aurors saw Legion wearing Andromeda's face after they had already confirmed that she had been killed. The news got out about Legion about a day later."

"I'm sure that went over well."

"We've done a good job of managing the panic that people are feeling," Arthur sighed. "The one thing that we have not been able to manage is your reputation. You might not have killed your cousin, but between your relationship with Hermione and the fact that you attacked the Minister of Magic, the press has had a field day with you."

"They can say whatever they want," Harry growled. "I honestly don't care about that. I just want to capture Legion before he can hurt anyone else."

That's when Harry became aware of a pair of people that weren't there.

"Arthur, have Ron or Hermione been here?"

Arthur once again looked uncomfortable.

"Not much, son, no," Arthur replied. "Ron told us that the two of you sat down to talk. But he also told us that you left to go get Teddy without him."

"I was trying to protect him," Harry protested.

Arthur answered back with a warm smile.

"Ron is an adult, same as you, Harry. Maybe you need to stop protecting people so much? Isn't that a similar excuse for why you neglected to tell anyone about your relationship with Hermione? I don't know about you, but I think that it ended up hurting more people in the end."

Arthur wasn't wrong. He was tactful enough to present it without scolding Harry, something that he wouldn't have blamed Arthur for at all. Yet the kindness that he showed Harry, even after all the lies that he had told over the years, almost hurt worse.

"As for Hermione, she has been at the Ministry for nearly sixteen hours a day, every day since the day of your assault on the Ministry."

"That's not what I went there to do," Harry said. "I just couldn't focus on anything."

"I'm aware and so is Hermione. Even Amos, having lost a child himself, understands where you're coming from."

There was one name notably absent from that list.

"Kingsley?"

Arthur sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Time changes everyone, Harry. I'm afraid that Kingsley might not be the man we remember. He's not a bad man by any stretch, but I think the amount of time he's spent as Minister of Magic has clouded his judgement. If this would have happened even two years ago, I think Kingsley likely would have supported you through thick and thin."

"What did he say?" Harry asked, knowing that it wasn't going to be good.

"He publicly rebuked you more than once," Arthur answered. "I know that he feels like he's doing the right thing by keeping the country unified. But I think in time, he'll regret his response to this. He'll especially regret that he wasn't as supportive of you as he should have been."

Harry chuckled.

"It's not like I've made it easy on him."

"That is true," Arthur conceded, "but remember, Kingsley was Alastor Moody's man until his death. If he can support Moody, then he can support you."

Finally, Cho came over with a list of charms and enchantments that she would use to restore Harry's body. The entire process was far too complicated for Harry to understand, other than the fact that Cho would use Harry's magic to accelerate the typical healing process. Instead of the months that it would have taken for Harry to get back to normal, Harry would get a clean bill of health in about a day.

Even then, he started feeling noticeably better the moment that Cho started her spellwork, a feeling that only improved the longer she went on.

Nearly three hours later, Harry was standing next to the bed that he had unconsciously occupied for the last ten days, dressed and ready to start moving again. Cho performed a quick series of checks to ensure that her enchantments would hold up long enough for Harry's magic to do the work needed to heal him.

"You seem to be healing nicely," Cho replied. "Remember, no magic for twenty-four hours. If you do, you risk only partially healing any one of your numerous injuries."

"Got it," Harry said with a thumbs up for emphasis. "Now, I would like to see my godson."

Teddy was in a room on the fifth floor where there were a series of temporary rooms for people whose relatives were in one of the long term care units at the Hospital. The rooms were cramped and dingy, but they did the job.

When Harry walked into Teddy's room, he was pleased to see that Arthur and Molly were already there waiting for him.

"Harry!" Teddy said upon seeing Harry. In a single motion, he leapt from his bed and raced to Harry, wrapping his arms around Harry's midsection. If there had been a reaction that Harry was expecting, this was not it.

Harry dropped to his knees, returning Teddy's embrace as he wrapped his arms around the boy's neck. For several moments, neither moved as they held the other. Harry didn't know what Teddy was thinking, but all Harry could think about was how close he had come to losing Teddy. After having been given the responsibility of being his godfather, Harry didn't think he could have survived losing Teddy, both because of how much he would miss the young man and because of the sense of shame he would have felt, knowing that he had failed in the one task that Remus and Tonks had given him.

"How are you?" Harry asked as he wiped tears away from his eyes.

"I'm alright," Teddy said, although he hadn't quite mastered lying to that extent. "Mrs. Davies has been really nice."

"She has?" Harry said in surprise.

"Yeah, she came to visit him a couple of times a day. She even took me for ice cream once!"

"That sounds wonderful," Harry said, mentally reminding himself to tell Cho just how much that meant to him. "Listen, before we leave, I would like to talk to Molly. Is that alright with you?"

"Sure."

Harry gave Teddy a big smile before leading Molly back out into the hallway. Once he was sure that Teddy couldn't see them, he cast the Muffliato Charm around them to ensure that Teddy couldn't hear them.

"I need you to take Teddy for a little while," Harry said, fighting back tears. "I need to make sure that he is safe and the only way to do that is to take Legion down."

"What makes you think that he'll be safe with us?" Molly asked.

"I thought he would be safe with Andromeda. I told her to leave and she did. I still don't know where she went, but Legion found them. If Legion can find him anywhere, then the next best idea is The Burrow. At the very least, the number of wards you've placed on that place will mean that you'll have a warning if it's coming."

"Do you think that he'll come after Teddy again?"

"Honestly, I don't know. If I had to guess, I would say no. Even though it didn't kill Teddy, it got what it wanted. It proved to me that it could get to anyone, anywhere."

Molly nodded gently before stepping forward and wrapping her arms around Harry.

"That boy needs you, Harry Potter. We'll do what we can, but in the end, this is going to fall to you."

"Well, I am pretty sure that I quit my job at the Ministry rather spectacularly. If we manage to get through this thing, then Teddy will be my whole focus."

"Teddy and Hermione, you mean," Molly replied with a knowing smirk. Harry opened his mouth, intending to apologize, but Molly cut him off.

"Harry James Potter, some of us weren't quite fooled," Molly interjected. "I didn't know exactly what was going on. Merlin knows I didn't need all of that information. But I could tell that there was something going on there. Call it maternal intuition, hell, call it whatever you like."

"I can't say I wasn't madder than an insulted hippogriff when I found out. You should have told Ron at the very least. You know that and you don't need me to harp on that. Ron is still upset and he's going to be upset for quite some time. But he'll come around."

Harry didn't quite know what to say so he kept it simple.

"Thanks, Molly."

"You are quite welcome," Molly said, obviously pleased with herself. "Now, I'll grab Arthur and you can talk to Teddy. Then, we'll have a nice dinner together with Ginny before you race off to kill that damned thing."

"Ginny?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Yes, Ginny will be joining us," Molly replied. "She and Dean have been having some...troubles. If she wants to tell you anymore than that, well then that's up to her."

Molly and Harry walked back into the room. Quickly, Molly walked over to Arthur and whispered something in his ear. Arthur immediately got to his feet and walked out of the room, leaving Harry alone with Teddy, who sat on his bed, staring up at Harry.

"Where are they going?"

"They're giving us some room to talk," Harry replied as he sat next to Teddy. "Now, there's something I have to tell you. You're not going to like it much."

"Who am I staying with?" Teddy suddenly asked, stunning Harry.

"What? How did you...how did you know?" Harry finally managed to say.

"I spent a while with Legion," Teddy said, his hands balling up into fists as he spoke. "He kept telling me about all the bad things that he was going to do to you."

"Oh, Teddy, I'm so sorry," Harry said, wrapping an arm around Teddy, whose head immediately dropped onto Harry's shoulder.

"Then, he started to show me all of these bad things. They were like pictures, but in my mind. You were dead and my friends from school. It was awful."

Harry felt a rage like he had never known boiling inside of him. Only a few times in his life had Harry ever truly wanted to hurt someone or something, but this was far beyond that. If given the chance, Harry would have gladly killed Legion, brought it back to life, and killed it again.

Truthfully, Harry just wanted the chance to do it once.

"What does that have to do with you staying somewhere else?" Harry asked, still not quite seeing Teddy's train of thought.

"You came to save me. I know that it wants to kill Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione. I know that they mean a lot to you."

"Yes, yes they do," Harry replied.

"So you're going to stop him before he can hurt anyone else, right?" Teddy asked. "That's why I can't stay with you right now. You're going to take him down."

With everyone else, that sentiment had been a question. Teddy had seen what Legion was capable of firsthand. He had experienced its power and the nightmares that it could induce. Still, he believed that Harry could beat him.

Harry, the same man who had been at least partially responsible for his parents' death. Harry, the man who would now become his sole parent. The man who he had never really connected with.

Still, he believed that Harry could beat him.

This was Legion's first mistake, Harry realized. If he had gone after anyone else, Harry would have likely fought back, but it would have lacked the same fire that Harry would fight with now. By killing Andromeda, Legion had assumed that he would destroy Harry and Teddy's relationship.

But after everything, Teddy believed in Harry and Harry would be damned if he let the young man down.

"I am going to take him down," Harry said firmly. "It's not going to happen overnight, but I will do it. In the meantime, you are going to stay with Arthur and Molly."

"Well, they're not too bad," Teddy replied with a grin.

"They're the best," Harry said warmly. "They'll treat you like one of their own. Hell, you are practically one of their own."

"That sounds nice," Teddy replied.

"It is nice," Harry agreed. "Now, Molly mentioned something about dinner."

"Yes!" Teddy hissed as he leapt from the bed. For the first time in a long time, Harry truly and earnestly smiled as he followed his godson out of the room. All four of them returned to The Burrow where Molly quickly whipped up a three course dinner full of Harry's favorite food, including her world famous (Harry's world anyway) deep fried fish and chips.

It was nice to have a quiet meal with Molly, Arthur, and, strangely, Ginny. No one said much, but the look on Teddy's face throughout the evening told Harry that he was momentarily content. Things would get worse for him before they got better. In the weeks to come, he would dream about Andromeda, he would hear her voice, and he would see her out of the corner of his eye.

It would take time for all of that to fade away and even then, he would have the mental scars left by Legion for the rest of his life. All Harry could do was hope to be there for him as best he could. But right now, as much as he hated to leave Teddy, the best thing that he could do was make sure that Legion was taken care of, once and for all.

But before he could do that, there was someone else he needed to talk to.

Once dinner was completed, Ginny said a quick goodbye to her parents, Harry and Teddy before walking out the backdoor. As she left, Harry took Teddy upstairs and tucked him into Ron's old bed. Teddy, who had spent ten days in St. Mungo's, the same as Harry, fell asleep almost immediately. The Burrow might not have been his home, but it certainly felt like it more than a hospital.

Harry came back downstairs and thanked Arthur and Molly again for taking Teddy.

"Get to work, Harry," Molly said firmly. "Teddy is putting on a good act now, but we all know that sooner or later, that boy is going to break. He'll need you when that happens."

"I know," Harry replied. "Trust me, I want this done as soon as possible. It's just a matter of figuring out how."

"I have faith in you. And if not in you, then definitely in Hermione."

"I'll let her know," Harry replied, giving Molly a brief hug before walking out of the house. As he walked outside, Harry was surprised to see Ginny standing at the edge of the pond, skipping rocks over the face of the water. While Harry wanted to go talk to Hermione, it seemed like there might have been a reason why Ginny didn't immediately go home.

Silently, Harry came up to the pond, standing next to Ginny. For nearly ten minutes, neither of them spoke while Ginny continued throwing stones. With each stone she threw, the stone skipped further across the pond and the grunt that accompanied it grew louder until finally, she picked up the largest rock she could find and threw it into the pond with an accompanying shout that echoed into the marshes surrounding The Burrow.

"Do you want to talk?" Harry finally asked as Ginny collapsed to the ground.

"Not with you," Ginny replied in between heavy breaths.

"Fair enough."

Harry knew that there had been rumors that Dean and Ginny's marriage was not as stable as they publicly made it seem. Still, the fact that Ginny was eating dinner, alone, at her parents' house and also stalling before going home were signs that there certainly were issues at home.

Of course, Harry was not in a position to judge anyone else for having issues at home.

Still, Ginny didn't tell him to leave and so Harry, like he had done a thousand times before, conjured a chair, setting it down next to where Ginny had landed and sat, looking out over the marsh as the sun set behind the trees in the distance.

Harry looked down at Ginny and noticed tears streaming down her face. Still, her face remained hard and she silently stared out into the open air beyond the lake. Without thinking about it, Harry conjured a handkerchief and passed it to Ginny without looking at her. His hand floated for a moment before he felt a tug on the fabric as Ginny took it.

"Thanks," Ginny muttered as she dabbled away the tears from her eyes.

"Not a problem," Harry replied as he leaned back in his chair.

For nearly an hour, Harry and Ginny sat in silence, watching the sun as it finally disappeared beyond the horizon. The sky above them was clear, not a cloud in sight, and as the sun vanished, the stars slowly began to glow, a billion points of light shining down on them.

"Is there something wrong with me?"

It had been silent for so long that Harry was surprised to hear Ginny speak at all. More than that, however, he was surprised by the nature of the question.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked in concern.

"I-you know what, it's nothing," Ginny said as she stood. Harry wasn't one to push people to talk. Too many times during his childhood, people had felt like the only thing Harry had needed was to talk, even if he didn't want to. Everyone was always offering an ear, despite the fact that Harry rarely asked for one.

Still, he knew Ginny. Ginny would never talk about her problems unless she was confronted by them head-on. She was, for better or worse, the most resolute person that he knew. Once Ginny Weasley set her mind on something, not even those closest to her could convince her of something else. That also meant that when Ginny decided that she didn't want to talk about something, it was difficult to convince her otherwise, even when it was obvious to everyone around her that the thing she needed most of all was just to let it all out.

"Ginny," Harry called as she attempted to storm off, "talk to me."

Ginny whipped around, her hair flashing in front of her eyes. Even in the dark, Harry could see her eyes burning.

"Why should I talk to you?"

"Because whether you know it or not, you want to talk to someone," Harry countered. "I had no problem sitting out here with you in silence. Something is clearly bothering you and I wanted to be supportive."

"Thanks, but I don't need your help," Ginny snapped.

"You're right, you don't," Harry conceded. "But we sat out here for quite a while. You've clearly got something on your mind and you want to talk to someone. So why not me?"

"Because you're part of the problem," Ginny growled.

That was not the answer that Harry was expecting. He had expected her to say something about his relationship with Hermione or his betrayal of Ron. He had expected her to say that she didn't trust Harry for lying for so long, all of which would have been good reasons to not want to talk to Harry.

But Harry hadn't been a consistent part of Ginny's day-to-day life for years now. They were still close friends and they saw each other every Sunday at the weekly Weasley dinner, but things weren't like they were at Hogwarts. Ginny was married to Dean and as a result, they spent more time with Dean's friends, who were significantly less busy, than Ginny's.

All of that meant that Harry was very confused as to how Ginny's current predicament could be his fault.

"What?" Harry asked.

"You are a part of my problem," Ginny repeated. "I've loved two men in my life, you and Dean, and both of you decided that I wasn't enough for you."

"What? Dean left you?" Harry asked.

"No. Well, not yet anyway. But I think it's only a matter of time," Ginny replied, returning to her spot at the edge of the pond and sitting.

"What makes you say that?" Harry asked as he returned to his seat.

"I found out a couple weeks ago that Dean had been meeting one of his coworkers while I was away for Quidditch," Ginny whispered. "He tells me that nothing happened. He says that they're just friends and that he wanted someone to spend time with while I'm away."

"Could that be the truth?"

"It could," Ginny admitted. "But things have been...off with us for awhile now."

"Really? None of us have noticed," Harry replied.

"Well, you haven't really been paying attention to much other than Hermione and Legion, have you?" Ginny replied icily.

That comment stung, but was unfortunately, quite true.

"Fair, but I did talk to Ron quite a bit and he never mentioned it."

"Well, I wasn't making a big deal of it," Ginny said. "Plus, it's not like we were getting into duels at home or anything like that. We just stopped agreeing on anything. We couldn't even decide what we wanted for dinner without it turning into an argument. It got so bad that I was thankful when the Harpies were selected for that tournament in Greece last year."

"How long were you gone for? Six weeks?"

"Nine," Ginny replied and for the first time, Harry could barely just make out a smile in the dim moonlight. "They were the nine best weeks of the year. Nine weeks where I could focus on Quidditch and just being myself. I didn't come home and wonder what stupid thing we were going to fight over."

"Maybe you just needed some time apart?" Harry suggested. "You wouldn't be the first couple that benefited from some separation."

"Yes, but the separation didn't help. This is about the time that Dean started spending all of his time with his coworker, a coworker that I didn't know existed until someone else mentioned that they saw him with her at the Leaky Cauldron while I was in Tutshill about a month ago. In addition to that mess, we also went back to fighting about everything, only this time it was worse because we had spent nearly three months apart."

Ginny sighed as she brought the handkerchief back to her face.

"The worst part of the whole thing was that when I found out about his coworker and confronted me about it, he turned it around on me."

"How?"

"By mentioning you," Ginny replied. "When things were winding down between the two of us, I spent a night at the Leaky Cauldron. Dean just happened to be there. We spent the night talking about how things had changed since the war. Let me assure you, nothing happened."

While Harry had long wondered whether Ginny had cheated on him with Dean, Harry found that at this moment, he didn't particularly care. Not only would he be the world's largest hypocrite if he found her at fault for doing what he had spent years doing, but it was so long ago that even if the mystery was answered, it didn't actually matter to him anymore.

"It doesn't matter," Harry replied. "It is good to know that things between us ended well at least, but that was so long ago. Why did Dean bring that up?"

"Because he said that it was just like what Dean and I had done. We were friends, we had drinks, that was it. He's not wrong. I don't know if he's slept with her or anything like that."

"But he didn't tell you about her for a reason," Harry countered, knowing exactly where Ginny's mind was headed. "That eats at you."

"How could it not? He's spent the better part of two years spending time with this woman. Hell, she might know more about my husband than I do," Ginny mused, clearly pained by the idea that a stranger might know her husband better than her.

"So are you staying here?"

"For a little while. I want to try and fix things, but I just don't know if there's anything left to fix," Ginny admitted. "The last straw was about a month ago when he suggested that you had killed your cousin."

Harry hadn't expected to hear that. While he had never been best friends with Dean, Dean had always been a pretty clear supporter of Harry's, even when others had not.

"Wow."

"He's changed as he's gotten older," Ginny replied. "Something about him seems to resent you. I don't know why. You walked away from me pretty easily."

"That's not fair," Harry retorted. "You know that it wasn't easy."

"I know, I know," Ginny said. "That's just my anger talking. I just don't get it. For years, we were fine and then, something just...happened. Suddenly, he's angry about me and about Quidditch and about the fact that I'm still friends with you."

"People change. It's why things didn't work out between you and me. The Harry that loved you, the one that only wanted a family after the war, he left the Burrow after Bill and Fleur's wedding and never came back.

"I know," Ginny admitted. "I just really wish the men in my life would stop doing that."

"Is it possible that you changed?" Harry asked. "Maybe Dean's always been this way and you're just seeing it for the first time?"

Ginny considered that thought for a moment before shrugging.

"It's possible, I suppose," Ginny reponsed. "But Dean seemed to worship me for the first few years of our marriage. And he always liked you, even if you were my ex-boyfriend. Now, he can't wait to spend time away from me and he seems to hate you for reasons that even I can't explain."

All in all, it sounded like a nightmare situation for Ginny. Harry didn't know enough about Dean to know whether it was all true, but Ginny was a relatively observant person and Harry trusted her. If she said that this was the way things were, Harry had no reason to doubt her until he saw otherwise.

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked. "You've been here for a month and you are clearly still upset."

"Your timing is incredible. Dean and I are actually meeting in London tomorrow to talk about it."

"What do you think will happen?"

Ginny hesitated just a second before responding.

"Honestly, I think we'll give it another go. Despite it all, I do still love him, although that might just be the memory of the man that I thought I married. Still, we've been married for almost eight years. Seems like a waste to just throw it all down the drain without even trying to put it back together. What do you think?"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"Honestly, it sounds like you've given it a good try already, Gin," Harry admitted. "While I'm shocked by Dean's belief that I killed my cousin, that doesn't even factor into this at all. Regardless of whether he slept with that woman or not, the fact that he never told you about her tells me something and it's not a good indictment of his character."

"This coming from someone who lied about sleeping with Hermione for years?" Ginny asked. Her tone was light, but she was clearly targeting Harry for his behavior. Unfortunately, Harry couldn't blame her.

"I regret almost every decision that Hermione and I made over the years," Harry murmured. "We were stupid and foolish and disrespectful to everyone that loved us. I guess I would ask if Dean feels the same way. If he doesn't, then that would tell me everything I need to know."

"Right," Ginny said before turning to Harry. "You had hundreds of opportunities to tell Ron. Why didn't you?"

"Because I was a coward," Harry said simply. "I was more concerned with preserving my friendship with Ron than telling him the truth."

"That's disappointing, Harry," Ginny replied. "I have to tell you that I was shocked when Ron told us about it all. I never thought that you were capable of something like that."

"Unfortunately, I am as human as anyone else," Harry informed her. "We were idiots who rationalized our behavior to avoid having to deal with the consequences of it. We made dozens of mistakes over the years and I would do anything to get that time back."

"It does-"

"It doesn't work that way," Harry interrupted. "I'm well aware. Your oldest brother reminded me of that as well when I talked to him. While I may be an idiot, my life is a constant reminder that there are no second chances when it comes to most things. I certainly don't need another reminder of that."

"Are you sure?" Ginny asked. "Because you lied to my brother for years. You lied to all of us. Both of you did."

"I know," Harry whispered. "I'm trying to be better."

"Good."

That was all that needed to be said. Having each said their piece, Harry and Ginny returned to staring out over the pond, the black water reflecting the light of the night sky. After another few minutes, Harry sighed deeply and then stood, Vanishing his chair as he did.

"You going to see her?" Ginny asked.

"I am," Harry confirmed. "We're long overdue for a conversation."

"Good," Ginny said with a slight grin. "Figure things out and then make things right."

"I'm working on it," Harry replied. "Good luck tomorrow."

"I doubt luck will have much to do with it unfortunately."

"Right. Well, good night, Gin."

"Good night, Harry," Ginny replied as she returned to staring at the water. Harry turned and walked past the lake towards the edge of the wards before Apparating to a house that he had been to a thousand times. Just like before, two Aurors, hidden under Disillusionment Charms, stood outside.

In fact, they were the same two guards that Harry had Stunned weeks earlier.

As Harry got closer, the two Aurors removed their enchantments and stepped in between Harry and the door.

"I've been cleared of all wrongdoing," Harry said in frustration.

"We still have to confirm if it is you," one of the Aurors said.

"How do you plan on doing that?" Harry asked.

"Take out your wand."

Harry did so, although he wasn't exactly sure why. As Harry removed his wand from its wrist holster, the other Auror took out a piece of paper and consulted it. The paper was actually a picture of Harry's wand.

"Where did you get that?" Harry asked.

"Miss Granger provided it," the Auror replied. "Everyone else on her list got a question, but according to her, you don't like being asked questions."

"Not particularly."

"That's why she gave us the picture. No two wands are exactly alike, right?"

"I suppose not," Harry replied. "Am I good to go in?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter. Have a good night."

It was the first time an Auror had called him Mr. Potter in years. Ever since Harry had been named a Senior Auror, almost every other Auror had either referred to him by his given name or sir. Now that he had officially resigned from the Ministry (information that had clearly been passed down to Rookies like these two), there was no need for that kind of pleasantry. Now, they referred to him the same way they did any other normal civilian.

It was strange, but Harry wasn't certain if it bothered him. Of course, he knew that he would have much more time to think about that later. For now, he needed to talk to Hermione.

Unlike the rest of Hermione's visitors who had to knock on the door, Harry used the key that Hermione had provided him years ago, walking straight into the front hall of Hermione's home.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted as he opened the door.

Harry heard the sound of feet from upstairs. Seconds later, Hermione, already dressed in her pajamas, came racing down the stairs. She didn't bother to stop before she collided with Harry, her arms wrapping tightly around him. For a few moments, they didn't feel the need to talk. They just stood there and held each other.

But Harry had come here with a mission and unfortunately, that meant that they couldn't simply hug in her doorway all night.

"I'm glad you're happy to see me," Harry said.

Immediately, Hermione let go and looked up at him, clearly confused by Harry's somewhat detached tone.

"Of course I'm happy to see you. Why wouldn't I be happy to see you?"

"Well, I did just spend ten days in St. Mungo's and according to the Weasleys, who were there when I woke up, neither you or Ron came to visit me the whole time."

Hermione's entire posture changed. Suddenly, her head dropped and she stared at her feet. Whether it was embarrassment or shame that caused it, Harry couldn't be sure.

"Now, Ron, I understand. I mean he is still royally pissed off at me. But the last time I checked, I thought the two of us were still good."

"We are!" Hermione protested, looking back up at Harry briefly.

"Then why didn't you come to visit me?" Harry asked, taking Hermione by the hand and leading her to the couch. "Explain it to me. Something is clearly bothering you and I want to know."

Hermione leaned all the way back on the couch, staring off at the ceiling.

"There's a lot going on Harry. Some of it is you, some of it is me."

"Then talk to me. Tell me what's going on. Something happened for you to not even show up at the hospital."

"I did show up," Hermione replied. "Unfortunately, I showed up at the same time as Ron. We had talked before he talked to you, but there was something about seeing him there that pushed me away. I knew that a large contingent of the Weasleys had already arrived and I wasn't sure how they would react to me being there. So, I left."

"A couple of days later, we brought Ron into the Ministry to get his perspective on the events that lead to your injuries. That's when he told us that he had been with you when you decided to go to Little Hangleton on your own. When he had come to get me originally, he had conveniently left that part of the story out. I think he wanted me to focus more on organizing people to save your life rather than how much I wanted to kill you."

"I was trying to protect him. I didn't want anyone else to get in the way."

"Ron's not an idiot," Hermione countered. "If he volunteered to go with you, he knew what it could have meant. Even after everything that's happened between the three of us, the fact that he was still volunteering to go should have told you everything you needed to know."

"It did. That's why I went on my own. I wanted the chance to fix things with Ron. If he dies trying to be a hero, especially in an instance where I could protect him, I don't think I could have lived with myself."

"But that was his choice to make, wasn't it?" Hermione replied.

"I suppose it was," Harry admitted. "That still doesn't explain why you didn't come visit me."

Hermione looked over at Harry, a pained look on her face. Then, she jumped to her feet and started pacing the room.

"I couldn't do it," Hermione finally muttered with her back to him. "I tried to go back another time and I got to the doorway and I saw you lying in that hospital bed. I saw you barely holding onto life and I got scared and I ran."

"When I saw you, all I could think about was that moment during The Battle. That moment when I saw your body in Hagrid's arms and I knew that you were gone. I've never felt anything like it, until that moment when I saw you lying in hospital."

Hermione turned back to him, tears streaming down her face.

"I love you, Harry, and the thought of my life without you, it terrifies me."

Harry stood and marched over to Hermione, taking her hands in his.

"You listen to me, Hermione Granger. You asked me a few weeks ago if I loved you the way that you love me. I can't say that I do."

Hermione's face fell for a moment, but Harry took her face in his hands and guided her eyes towards his.

"What I can tell you is that the sun is brighter when I'm with you. Coffee tastes better when I'm with you. I don't know if that's sappy or pathetic or some combination of the two. But what I do know, Hermione Granger, is that my life is given meaning by the people in it and there is no one that has given my life more meaning for as long as you have. You've been there from the very beginning of my tale and I don't doubt that you will be there at the very end."

"Does that mean what I think it means?" Hermione asked.

"It means that I am with you for as long as you'll have me. You and you alone."

Hermione immediately stepped towards Harry then grabbed him by the front of the shirt and pulled him down so that she could kiss him. Harry was mildly surprised by the aggression of the action, but pleased anyway.

Harry had kissed Hermione hundreds of times over the years, but there was something different about this one. In every other instance, a kiss was simply a part of the action or the first in a series of steps that lead to him sleeping with her. In this case, there was no ulterior motive, no intention to take her to bed.

There was just the two of them, standing in the middle of Hermione's living room, finally coming to grips with the truth about their relationship.

It had only taken them twenty years.

Eventually, Hermione's soft lips pulled away from Harry's. When Harry looked down, he saw her smile in a way that he had never seen before. It wasn't any one thing. It was just different, but Harry knew that he would fight to keep that smile on her face for as long as he could.

Hermione pulled Harry back to the couch before throwing him down. Typically, when that happened, Hermione's next step was either to straddle him or take off her shit. Instead, she sat next to him and burrowed herself next to him, his arm falling easily over her shoulder.

They had been this close for years, but it had always seemed like it was a perfunctory part of their sexual relationship. Of course they were able to cuddle on the couch, because they had sex three times in the last week.

They had always said that they didn't want any strings in their relationship. Harry had known that he had been lying about that for years and Hermione had admitted as much on his birthday. How many strings had they already created? How many more would they create? Harry looked down and saw Hermione as she cuddled in closer and hoped that he would remain tied to her forever.

"You know, when we slept together that first time, I thought that we were going to get together after that," Hermione said.

"Really?" Harry said in surprise. "You were still dating Ron."

"I know, but it just seemed inevitable at the time. Not even because I consciously wanted it at the time, but because I wasn't really the "one night stand" type."

"I know. Me neither."

Hermione chuckled to herself. "Of course, then you left me in the middle of the night."

Harry had forgotten about that. He and Hermione had accidentally fallen asleep after having sex. When Harry awoke several hours later, he had realized where he was and where he was. He panicked, quickly getting dressed and racing out of the house.

He thought it would be weeks before he saw Hermione again, but she came to his London flat just moments after she broke up with Ron. Ostensibly, she had come for support, but between her breakup with Ron and the incredibly confusing state of their relationship at that moment, they had not been in quite their right minds.

That had been night number two.

"Yeah, not my finest hour," Harry admitted.

"I never did find out why you left exactly."

"Well, let's see: I consider myself to be a respectful person. So, when I awoke to find myself in your bed next to your naked body, I freaked. I knew that what we had done was wrong and it didn't line up with how I thought of myself. I knew that you had been in a tough place with Ron so I immediately blamed myself. Once that started, there was no way I could stay."

Hermione padded Harry's leg gently at that. "Harry, we both know that I make my own decisions. I wasn't drunk and I wasn't in hysterics. You did not take advantage of me. I was stressed and fighting with Ron and I wanted to feel good. You were just in the right place at the wrong time."

"Although when you think about it, it might be the right place," Harry replied. "I know that this whole thing has been a mess. But if we hadn't started sleeping together, we might have never realized just how we felt about each other."

"Or we would have and things would be a lot less complicated," Hermione countered.

"Yes, yes, of course, that is possible," Harry admitted with a laugh. "But if my choices are between the mess we currently find ourselves in or a boring life where I never realize just how much I love you, I'll take the mess."

"Me too," Hermione said as she leaned up and kissed Harry. "I'm just glad you didn't find someone along the way."

"Well, that would have been kind of difficult."

"Why is that?" Hermione asked.

Harry was nervous about what he was about to say, but he knew that everything needed to come out.

"Well, you know how I kept telling you about all of these terrible dates I had been going on?"

"Yes?"

"They weren't always the other person's fault."

Hermione sat up and looked at Harry in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"So, we slept together a few times before we kind of sat down and figured out how this was going to work, right?" Harry said. "Well, for the first couple of years, I did try and get out there sometimes. But between work and my limited capacity for bullshit, I didn't find many people that I was interested in."

"Well, you are a bit peculiar."

"That's selling it short," Harry replied. "At the same time, our relationship was evolving. Like you said on my birthday, we basically started going on dates. I found that I enjoyed our dates far more than I enjoyed any other dates, so I just stopped."

"Stopped what?"

"Well, for awhile, I pretty much stopped dating entirely. But even when you noticed that I hadn't been on a date in awhile, I might have...sabotaged myself a bit. I picked people who I was clearly not interested in or people who would get bored with me quickly. Then, I could say that I was going on dates and you wouldn't ask any more questions."

"I knew that you were out there dating. I think it was about the same time as we started going out dancing, that's when I realized that my feelings for you had changed. I just resigned myself to the fact that some day, you would find someone would work for you. On that day, I would have been happy for you and heart broken for myself."

Hermione gently took Harry's hand in her own.

"Harry, we started going dancing nearly four years ago," Hermione replied. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Because I didn't think you felt the same way. I thought that we were friends and that you liked fucking me on the side. I never once actually considered that this was something that could become sustainable as a real relationship. Life just hadn't worked out that way for me."

"Merlin, I wish you had said something," Hermione answered wistfully.

"Why is that?"

"Because I think I started to fall for you right about the time you took me to that Australian restaurant."

The Australian restaurant, a Muggle establishment that Harry couldn't remember the name of at the moment, was the site of what could be considered Harry and Hermione's first date. It had been weeks since they had managed to find time to see each other outside of work or their occasional romps. So, Harry had suggested that they meet for dinner before returning to Hermione's apartment.

Of course, the nature of their celebrity meant that they couldn't be seen dining together in the wizarding world. Enter the Australian restaurant. The food had been uninspiring and it had rained nearly the entire walk back to Hermione's apartment. But that lead to wet sex on the stairs and Harry falling down the stairs with his pants around his ankles.

Not one of his best moments, but certainly one of his fondest memories, all things considered.

Notably, that had been nearly two years before Hermione's first suggestion that they go dancing.

"Six years?" Harry asked as he finally managed to make the math work in his head. "Six years?"

"I don't know what to tell you. I like a man who can organize an entire Auror division in less than ten minutes, go home that night and cook dinner, and then make me orgasm three times that night. Oh, and your personality isn't too bad either."

"Ditto," Harry replied, marveling at the star-crossed nature of their relationship. If either of them had said anything years earlier, they would likely be married by now, assuming everything went right. Instead, they had been too afraid to rock the boat, too afraid of shaking up the status quo and it had taken them eight years to get to the point where they truly and fully realized the feelings they had for one another.

Harry and Hermione sat in silence for a while, simply reflecting on all that time, all the decisions that they had made. Harry found himself thinking about what would happen once they had dealt with Legion. How would things move forward between them? Would he move in? Would she want to get married?

Immediately, one thing came to Harry's mind, something that he needed to get an answer on today.

"I'm Teddy's father now," Harry said, finally using that term for the first time. "I know that having children was not necessarily on your bucket list, but I need to know that you are still in this, even with Teddy, because as much as I love you, I-"

Harry was stopped by Hermione, who placed a hand over Harry's mouth.

"You're right, kids weren't in the plan. But to be honest, neither were you," Hermione admitted. "Besides, it's Teddy. How could I say no to him?"

"It's going to be hard," Harry replied, speaking for both of them.

"Well, then we'll do it together. You and me," Hermione said. "We'll have help, I'm sure. But we'll take care of Legion and then we'll figure out how to deal with a ten-year-old boy. I'm certain there's got to be some literature on these kinds of situations."

Harry laughed at the typical Hermione response of assuming that there was a book for everything. Just then, a letter came zooming in through the mail slot in the front door, landing in Harry's lap. Quickly, Harry opened the letter and read.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"It's Malfoy," Harry replied. "He's on his way over. He thinks that he and Bill finally cracked The Arch."


	19. The Father and The Prodigal Son

Less than an hour later, Bill and Malfoy walked in Hermione’s front door, each of them carrying a stack of papers. Hermione pointed them to her massive office upstairs, a two-story, circular room was a glass dome at the top and bookshelves lining the walls. Harry still remembered when Hermione had moved in. When he had first seen the room, he had only one question.

“How much money did you throw at them just so that you could have this library?”

Currently, those bookshelves were covered in large sketches and etchings. One of them was a drawing of The Arch itself with various locations circled. Others were enlarged versions of the runes that had been engraved on the Arch. 

“This is something else,” Harry said as he looked around the room.

“This is the result of hours of research,” Malfoy replied. “Now, are we ready?”

“We’re ready whenever you are,” Hermione said as she took a seat.

“Good, good,” Malfoy said, buzzing with nervous energy as he spoke, a strange look for the typically calm Pureblood. “Now, for weeks, we looked into these runes and found nothing. That was until Potter brought us the key.”

“Ogham,” Bill said. “It’s the key to all of this.”

“Right. We had managed to figure out a lot about the design of the runes, specifically how their location related to their function,” Malfoy added. “But without knowing what those runes actually said, there was nothing that we could do.”

Malfoy reached into a bag that he had brought with him and pulled out a sheet of parchment.

“Once you had figured out that the runes were written in Ogham, Weasley gave me this key and I got to work on translating them. As we all know, Ogham wouldn’t translate into English as we speak it today. It turns out that it didn’t even translate into Old Irish like we expected.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“Well, once I had translated all of the Ogham figures into letters, I began trying to translate the language to Irish. But none of the words appeared in any of the Old Irish references I found. In fact, the words didn’t appear to be of British origin at all.”

Harry had a sneaking suspicion that he knew exactly where they were from.

“Scandinavia?” Harry asked.

“Exactly!” Bill replied. “When you think about it, it’s a brilliant trick by Peverell. By the time that Legion was captured, most of his followers would have spoken some form of English, Irish, Scottish or Welsh. Using an Irish runic language to translate into a Scandiavian language added a twist that would make it nearly impossible to crack the runes. You would have to know both languages and how they related to each other to even begin working out the runes.”

Harry couldn’t say that he was particularly surprised. He knew almost nothing about Gallahad Peverell, but when you considered that his sons were some of the most brilliant wizards to ever set foot on the Earth, it wasn’t a stretch to assume that he was quite gifted in his own right.

“You’ve completed the translations then?” Hermione asked.

“We did,” Malfoy confirmed. “It took awhile. I had to dig into collections of old Nordic languages, but eventually I was able to find one that matched the words in question. Once I had the language, then I was able to translate those words into Norweigian and then, finally, into English.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, amazed at the amount of work that Malfoy had put into translating these runes.

“I didn’t do it alone,” Malfoy replied. “Bill did most of the initial translation since I’m not quite as gifted in runes as he is, although I doubt many people are.”

It was rarel to hear Malfoy give a compliment to anyone, but even rarer for him to compliment a Weasley. 

“Alright, we can all talk about how great we are later,” Hermione suddenly cut in. “What do the runes say!?”

At this, Bill took over the demonstration.

“Well, the runes are not all exactly runes,” Bill said as he pointed to three shapes that had been circled on the drawing of the Arch. “These runes are what we believe activate the Arch itself. On the left side is a rune that says Birth and on the right is one that says Death. At the top of the arch is a third symbol that quite literally translates to “a place between life and death.”

A place between life and death.

Immediately, all Harry could think of was the moment that Voldemort’s Killing Curse had struck him. At that moment, Harry had been sent somewhere, a world in between worlds.

“Unfortunately,” Bill groaned, “that’s all we can tell about those runes for the moment. We believe that they were used to create some sort of effect. Each of them is charmed differently, but we haven’t yet been able to quite discern how exactly they were used. For that, we’ll need more access to the Arch itself.”

Harry turned to Hermione, who looked at him nervously. Harry was obviously not the right person for this particular job at the moment, which meant that, by default, the job fell to her.

“I’ll talk to Kingsley in the morning,” Hermione replied, although he could tell that she was not pleased by that thought. “Is that all you have?”

“Not exactly,” Bill said before moving to the other side of the room where a list of symbols hung from one of the shelves. “On the back side of the Arch were a number of symbols that had no runic magic connected to them. Nevertheless, we translated them.”

Bill took his wand and waved it over the runes. Suddenly, those markings, which held no meaning for Harry or Hermione, changed into easily recognizable letters, spelling out the words Fjolnir, Auoun, Svipall, and Wodin.

It took only a second for Harry to read that list of names and realize that Malfoy and Bill had likely come across the clue that Harry had been looking for.

“Wodin,” Harry muttered to himself.

“What is that?” Hermione asked.

“Wodin. While I was looking for information on the runes, I also went looking into Nordic culture and mythology. I spent hours reading about their gods and the stories associated with them. Wodin was one of them.”

Then, it all clicked for Harry. For months, Harry had feared Legion and rightfully so. But Harry hadn’t yet realized just how fearful of Legion he should have been.

“Merlin…” Harry said, his face feeling hot as realization washed over him.

“Harry, what is it?” Hermione asked.

Harry found it difficult to talk, but he managed, stumbling through the words as he fought to get them out.

“Wodin is one of the earliest forms of the name of the All Father, Odin, chief of the Norse gods,” Harry said, his pulse racing at the thought. “Some of the scholars suggested that the Norse gods in particular were likely just powerful wizards. I think we found one.”

“Wait a minute,” Malfoy said. “Are you suggesting that Legion is a god? That can’t be possible, can it?”

“I don’t think so,” Bill replied. “Legion is old, but the stories in that mythology go back nearly two thousand years.”

But all Harry could focus on was the image in his mind. When Harry had used the Killing Curse on Legion, something about him changed. With his power damaged, he had seemingly reverted to his original form, an old man with a thick beard and a scar over one eye.

The same man that had been at the helm of a Viking ship in Legion’s mind.

“It makes sense,” Harry replied. “We know that Ogham was a form of Irish and you said it yourself that the Nordic invasions resettled a lot of Ireland. Plus, the Ogham runes translate to a Nordic language, which likely suggests that Peverell did it as some kind of ironic trick.”

“But most of those invasions occurred much earlier than when the rumors of Legion first started,” Bill replied. “There’s not much history of it at all, but what we could find didn’t start any earlier than 1000 AD. Most of the invasions had already happened by that point and Odin had been a key figure of Norse cultures for centuries.”

“That doesn’t mean that there weren’t stories about Odin here,” Malfoy said, a strange look on his face. “One of my family’s old horror stories, legends Dad used to call them, involved a group of Vikings, wizards from Scandinavia. They came to England and they tore through the countryside, killing Muggles and wizards alike. According to the legend, they were led by a mysterious wizard. No one knew his name or where he was from, just that he was very old and far more powerful than any other wizard. It’s possible that this mysterious wizard was actually Legion or Odin, if you honestly believe that’s his name.”

“This is insane,” Bill replied. 

“Is it?” Harry asked as he rose to his feet. “Have you seen what Legion can do? I have. Hermione has. Odin was famous for being a shapeshifter and for his ability to read minds, two skills that Legion possess in spades. Odin famously lost an eye. I’ve seen Legion’s true form and he’s got a mark over an eye, a blind eye at that.”

“Think about this. There were stories for centuries about Odin. We know that Legion possesses an unnaturally long life. What if Odin was taking magic from others, using it to bolster his own so that he could live longer? What if he decided one day that taking magic from others was becoming too much? What if he thought that he could find a way to become something more than just a powerful wizard?”

“That kind of magic doesn’t exist,” Bill countered.

“It doesn’t exist anymore,” Hermione replied. “Magic two thousand years ago was wild by our standards. To be honest, we don’t know what did or didn’t exist then. It’s not entirely impossible.”

“More than once, Legion has hinted that it was once a man who was  _ made _ what it is now. If that can be possible, could it not be possible that Odin figured out a way to prolong his own life? Then, he learned of a ritual that would enable him to effectively become immortal. What he didn’t know is that it would remove any semblance of his humanity.”

Harry turned away from Bill and the others and began pacing the far corner of the room, collecting his thoughts.

“I got a look into his mind,” Harry thought aloud. “The ship that I saw him coming across was used primarily between the seventh and ninth century.”

“That’s around the same time that the rumors of the band of Nordic marauders started popping up,” Malfoy added.

“Is it unreasonable to think that Odin, already powerful beyond any measure that we currently possess, came to Britain sometime during that time. Based on everything that I know of the stories, he was a warrior, a man capable of great wonders, but also unimaginable cruelty. He came here with the intention of taking over.”

“At some point, Odin completes the ritual that turns him into Legion. He begins a reign of terror that becomes the stuff of legend until sometime in the thirteenth century when Gallahad Peverell sacrifices himself to trap Legion inside the Arch.”

Harry turned to Hermione, hopeful that she, above everyone else, would follow his line of thinking. Instead, he saw that she was scanning the room, looking at each of the symbols on the walls.

“What do you think, Hermione?” Harry finally asked.

“I think that it is possible,” Hermione admitted, “but I don’t see how it can be true.”

“Why not?” Harry asked.

“First, there are simply too many holes in the timeline that we can’t fill in. That doesn’t mean that Legion is not Odin. It just means that we can’t prove it.”

“Fine.”

“More importantly, why does it matter?” Malfoy asked.

“It matters, because if this guy is Odin,  _ the  _ Odin,” Harry said as he marched around to the list of names, tapping at them wildly, “then I think we’re underestimating the power that he might possess, even if we would somehow manage to reverse the ritual that gave him his power, which we will likely have to do before we can get him back inside the Arch.”

“Isn’t that something we should worry about once we’ve figured out the ritual?” Bill asked. “I understand that the ritual is certainly important, and I get that knowing just how powerful he’ll be without his extra power is going to be essential, but at the moment, the priority should be the Arch. If we don’t figure that out, then the rest of it is meaningless.”

Harry couldn’t argue with that logic. He also knew that it was very possible that Legion wasn’t Odin at all, but someone who had adopted that title. But the pieces seemed to fit. Based on what Harry knew of him, the man who would become Legion came from a Nordic country, had a scarred eye, and was likely incredibly powerful.

Plus, Legion seemed to believe that he was beyond simply being old, but ancient. Could he have been born nearly two thousand years ago? With the power that he seemed to possess, Harry couldn’t rule out the possibility. Obviously, being trapped inside the Arch for the last several hundred years had affected his lifespan, but none of them knew exactly how the Arch worked. Legion seemed to have some sort of awareness of the world outside the Arch, which implied that he was awake the whole time. Maybe something in there prevented him from aging or maybe he just simply didn’t age any more?

There were dozens of questions that still needed answering, but for the first time in months, they finally had real leads and were moving in the right direction towards answering those questions.

Those questions would have to wait however. Just as Harry opened his mouth to speak again, there was a knock on the door. In unison, all four of them turned to see none other than Kingsley Shacklebolt standing in the doorway. For a moment, he looked at the four of them and then began to scan the walls.

“You have made some progress, I see,” Kingsley said. “That’s good to see.”

“What can I do for you, sir?” Hermione asked as she approached the Minister.

“Well, Hermione, I was hoping that I could speak to Mr. Potter here,” Kingsley said, vaguely gesturing towards Harry. Despite the fact that Harry was not at all interested in speaking with Kingsley, he knew there was no way to deny the request. 

He was the Minister of Magic after all. Hermione nervously looked back at Harry, who nodded gently.

“We’ll give the two of you a few minutes then,” Hermione said, motioning for Bill and Malfoy to follow her.

As they left, Kingsley entered the room in earnest, setting his cloak over the back of one of the chairs before wandering the room as he examined the scrolls on the walls.

“Have you figured out the runes yet?”

“We’re close,” Harry said shortly, his eyes never leaving the Minister.

“That’s good,” Kingsley replied, although Harry wasn’t even certain that Kingsley was talking to him.

Harry allowed Kingsley to wander around the room for nearly a minute, all of it in total silence, before he spoke up again.

“Kingsley, I don’t mean to be rude, but what the hell are you doing here? This isn’t even my house,” Harry finally said in frustration.

“No, but I knew that you would be here,” Kingsley replied. “You see, I ordered Hermione to leave this business alone.”

“You did?”

“Weeks ago,” Kingsley said, finally turning back to face Harry. “It’s not that I didn’t want people working on it, but I needed her to do her job. I told her that Malfoy would be able to handle it with Bill’s assistance just fine.”

“Which is mostly true,” Harry admitted. “Hermione has barely done anything in the last couple of weeks.”

“And yet they still came to you with the results. You, who last I checked, had rather forcibly tendered your resignation from the Ministry.”

Harry winced at the memory of him Stunning Kingsley and Amos. While he would do it again every time, he wasn’t particularly proud of himself at the moment.

“Whether I’m a member of the Ministry doesn’t matter to Legion. He’s coming after me whether I’m an Auror or not. That means that I’m taking him down and Bill and Malfoy and Hermione are helping me.”

“I understand,” Kingsley said as he took a seat at the large table in the middle of the room. “That’s why I’m here.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked as he sat across from Kingsley.

“First, you’ll be pleased to know that the Wizengamot will clear you of any wrongdoing related to your conflict of interest with Hermione,” Kingsley replied. “There were some who wanted to see you burn, of course, but there wasn’t enough evidence in either direction to sustain the charge of gross misconduct.”

“Why does that matter?” Harry questioned coldly.

“Because I would like you to come back to the Ministry.”

Harry didn’t know how to react to that. Of all the things that Harry had expected Kingsley to say, that was certainly not it.

“Kingsley, I don’t know that I can do that,” Harry replied. “You haven’t given me any good reason to trust you. You’ve publicly condemned me and Hermione more than once over the last few weeks. You sure as hell didn’t support me when Teddy was taken.”

“You have to understand that a man in my position---”

“Don’t give me that horseshit,” Harry snapped. “A man in your position has the power to make real decisions, enact real change. Ten years ago, when I heard that you had been named the new Minister, I couldn’t imagine anyone better. Someone who wasn’t a part of the political machine, someone who would push back against the Pureblood nonsense that permeated the Ministry, someone who would fight for those that couldn’t fight for themselves.”

“My son couldn’t fight for himself,” Harry said, his voice cracking at the thought of seeing Teddy tied up in that chair. “My son couldn’t fight for himself. The son of Remus Lupin, one of your best friends before his death, was in trouble and needed your help, Minister. I came to you and I asked for this very thing. Do you remember what your response was?”

Kingsley looked down at the table rather than look Harry in the eye.

“You were concerned with politics in that moment. When you heard that Teddy was taken, you could have mobilized the entire Auror Office like that,” Harry said with a snap of his fingers. “Instead, you took the time to tell me that you had a problem with my relationship with Hermione. You’re right. My relationship with Hermione was not exactly above the board when it came to the rules of the Ministry of Magic. I understand that.”

“What I don’t understand is that you heard that my godson had been abducted and you wanted to talk about politics!” Harry said, finally unable to stay seated anymore. In a single motion, he stood and swept the table clear of its contents, sending them flying across the room.

“When you took the Minister’s job, you were a man of honor. Now, you are nothing more than a garden variety politician, capable of doing good, but only when it suits you.”

Kingsley finally looked up at Harry and Harry was surprised to see that he had tears in his eyes.

“I know, Harry. I know,” Kingsley shrugged. “I got wrapped up in being the Minister of Magic. It was the exact thing that I told myself I wouldn’t do when I got the job. It’s how I know that my time has come.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m resigning Harry,” Kingsley said. “Regardless of however this Legion thing works out, I’ll be done by the end of the year.”

To say that Harry was surprised was an understatement. While Harry certainly had recent problems with Kingsley’s leadership, he had been a wildly popular Minister for the last decade among all but the most staunch of Purebloods. The idea of him simply walking away was wild.

“I must say that I’m surprised.”

“As am I, if I’m being honest,” Kingsley admitted. “But it was this incident with Teddy that made me see what I had become. You’re right when you said that I should have mobilized the Aurors immediately. Ultimately, my decision to resign didn’t have much to do with that. It was the fact that one of my closest friends’ son, as you so eloquently pointed out, had been kidnapped and my first thought had nothing to do with his safety. Honestly, the first thing that popped into my head was what we would have to do if Teddy died.”

Kingsley finally broke down, his hands cradling his head as he sobbed into them.

“Remus was one of the few people that I’ve ever been truly close to and his son was taken and I was worried about  _ optics _ **_,”_ ** Kingsley sobbed. “Once I realized that, once I truly understood the change that had come over me, I decided that enough was enough. I didn’t like the man that I had become, even if I am a popular Minister. I’ve never felt so shameful in my entire life.”

“The public will know soon. I’ll likely announce it within the next few weeks. But as part of my transition, I want the Ministry to be as strong as possible, especially if Legion hasn’t been captured yet,” Kingsley said firmly. “This means that I need my best Auror back. The Ministry needs you if it has any chance of beating Legion and you would have full access to the Department of Mysteries again.”

Harry had to admit that he was considering the idea. He had felt a sense of freedom when he had resigned, but part of that had come from the rage that Harry had been feeling that day. Now that reality had set back in, Harry knew that Kingsley was right. While Harry would figure out a way to defeat Legion, with or without the Ministry, the access to people and materials that the Auror Office would provide would be invaluable.

“Say I was considering it,” Harry suggested. “I attacked the Minister of Magic and the Senior Undersecretary.”

“Not to mention the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, a Senior Auror, and two Rookie Aurors.”

“In my own defense, Hermione told me to Stun her,” Harry replied. “In any case, the Ministry would approve of bringing me back?”

Kingsley’s face twitched ever so slightly and it was in that moment that Harry knew that there was something about this proposal that Harry was not going to like.

“In a way. I went to a number of influential Wizengamot members with this idea before I came to you. While none of them came out and said that they would block the move, a number of them did suggest that having a check on you would be helpful.”

“A check? What kind of check?” Harry asked scathingly.

“If you return to the Ministry, then Arthur Weasley will name another Senior Auror as Assistant Head Auror. They will essentially act as a bridge between you and the Senior Aurors. They will also be present for all meetings between you and the Head of the DMLE.”

There it was, the thing that caused Kingsley’s face to twitch.

“I’ll have a babysitter then?”

“Not at all,” Kingsley countered. “They will not outrank you or be able to countermand your orders. They will simply be present to assure both the public and the Wizengamot that there is no potential for any further issues between you and Hermione.”

“And if I say no?” Harry snapped back.

“If you say no, then I’m willing to support you for the position in any case,” Kingsley replied. “I firmly believe that you are going to be the best Head Auror in a century. You just need the opportunity to prove it. But I will warn you. If you don’t accept an assistant, the Wizengamot will contest your hiring and they will pull you and me and Hermione down into those courtroom. It could be months before you would be able to officially join the Ministry.”

“And in the meantime, Legion will have killed half of London,” Harry growled. Harry wasn’t happy about the idea of having someone there to look over his shoulder, but if that’s what it took to get the resources necessary, then that’s what he would do. Of course, that was assuming Harry took the job. There was still a strong part of him that wanted to tell Kingsley to shove it.

Still, Harry wanted to know more.

“Who did you have in mind for this position?” Harry asked, finally taking the seat across from Kingsley again.

“Well, we’ve had Paul Dawlish running---”

“Stop.”

“What?” 

“The fact that you replaced me with Paul Dawlish is enough of an insult. Don’t you dare suggest that I will deal with him looking over my shoulder and putting his two cents into every meeting I have with the Head of the DMLE.”

“What about---”

“Actually, you know what?” Harry said, suddenly cutting Kingsley off mid-sentence. “There’s only one name I’ll accept.”

“There’s a name you’ll accept?” Kingsley asked. “To be honest, you’re not on good terms with any of the Senior Aurors at the moment.”

“No, but there’s one that will work,” Harry replied. “Let’s be real here, Kingsley. I might be a good Head Auror, but I might also be dead in a few weeks. So, if we’re going to do this, and I’m going to have someone sitting in my office every single day, then it needs to be someone that would actually be capable of doing the job in my absence.”

“I have to assume you mean Elaina Andrews?” 

“I do.”

“The Auror that you Stunned just two weeks ago?” Kingsley chuckled. “That’s who you want watching your back?”

“She’s brilliant, gifted, and she has a gift for organization and investigation.”

“She’s also twenty-four years ago,” Kingsley countered. “She’s already one of the youngest Senior Aurors in the history of the Aurors. No one will go for her as Head Auror.”

“They will if I say so,” Harry replied. “This is it, Kingsley. It will be her or no one at all. From the way it sounds, you need a Head Auror more than I need your resources, especially if I can keep getting Malfoy and Hermione to work with me outside of the Ministry.”

That seemed to be the straw that broke the hippogriff’s back.

“Fine,” Kingsley replied. “You’ll be reinstated tomorrow and Elaina will be promoted to Assistant Head Auror at the same time.”

Kingsley stood and began to collect his things. As he walked to the door, he turned back to Harry.

“There’s one more thing,” Harry said before Kingsley could speak.

“Yes?” Kingsley said with amusement.

“I need to temporarily deputize some people,’ Harry said firmly.

“Who exactly did you have in mind?” Kingsley said.

“Well, there are a few people that Legion has threatened. They should all be informed. I imagine all of them will sign up to fight after I tell them that.”

“After they yell at you for not telling them in the first place,” Kingsley retorted.

“Right,” Harry said. “So?”

“I will make sure that the paperwork is on your desk when you arrive in the morning,” Kingsley confirmed. “You understand negotiations very well, Harry. Have you considered running for Minister of Magic?”

“Good night, sir,” Harry said as he rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious,” Kingsley replied. “We all know that Hermione will be Minister one day and she will be excellent. But don’t sell yourself too short, Harry. You certainly have the skills to do the job and the popularity to get it.”

“And I don’t want it.”

“For now,” Kingsley mused. “Good night, Harry. I’ll see you at work in the morning.”

Once Kingsley was gone, Harry, Hermione, Malfoy, and Bill spent the next few hours attempting to discern exactly how the runes worked. They had made a little progress when the clock struck midnight. Sensing that they had reached a wall, they went their separate ways.

The following morning, Harry awoke and showered quickly before Apparating from his front step to the Apparition point at the Ministry. Unlike the last time Harry landed there, no one stepped forward to confront him. Apparently, word had gotten around that Harry had been reinstated.

That also meant that there were a hoard of reporters waiting to speak with him. Normally, he would have pushed his way through them, but for a reason that Harry couldn’t quite explain, he instead stopped in front of them.

“I will take three questions and three questions only,” Harry replied before pointing to one of the reporters in the front.

“Mr. Potter, have you heard from your relatives about your cousin’s death?”

Harry laughed. “I haven’t heard from my aunt and uncle since the day I moved out of their house. I regret that their son got caught up in all this madness, but I doubt they had any interest in talking to me about it.”

Harry then pointed to another reporter, this one a short, wiry man who stood near the back.

“Mr. Potter, what do you say to the people who believe that you shouldn’t be reinstated after your attack on the Minister of Magic?”

“First, I say that I regret my actions on that day. I would also say that the Minister understands that I was under a lot of stress that day, considering my godson had been abducted.”

Harry scanned the crowd once more before smiling as he saw a familiar face.

“Mrs. Macmillan?” Harry smirked.

“That’s Patil-Macmillan,” Parvati replied with a smirk. “I suppose if I get the final question then I will ask what everyone wants to know.”

“And that is?”

“Are you and Hermione Granger a couple? Officially, I mean.”

Harry considered the question for a moment. He knew that there were dozens of ways that he could answer the question, most of which involved obfuscating the truth. But Harry had spent years hiding the truth and he was tired of it.

“I suppose we are,” Harry replied. “Obviously the last few months have been tough on both of us, but we’re in a pretty good place right now.”

Parvati smiled as she scribbled his words on the pad in her hands.

“Thanks, Harry!” Parvati replied.

“Not a problem,” Harry said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on.”

Unlike the usual scrum that occurred after Harry talked, everyone simply took a step in one way or the other, creating a seam for him to slip through. Only Parvati followed him, matching his stride as he approached.

“I didn’t expect you to answer,” Parvati admitted. “I’m happy for you two.”

“Thanks,” Harry said as he approached the lift. “Off the record, we’re still trying to figure some stuff out.”

“I can imagine. Off the record, are you Teddy’s guardian now?”

Harry nodded. “He’s staying with Arthur and Molly for the moment, but once I’m done with this Legion thing, then he can come home.”

“How worried are you about this Legion?” Parvati asked as the lift doors opened in front of him.

“Off the record?” Harry asked.

“Off the record,” Parvati answered.

“Off the record, I’m terrified,” Harry admitted. “Honestly, I think we’ll figure it out. But I’m not certain that everyone is going to make it in one piece.”

“Well, we have faith in you, Harry,” Parvait said warmly. “Take him down.”

“Working on it,” Harry said just as the lift doors closed between them.

Once the lift reached the proper floor, Harry marched into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. While it wasn’t exactly a hero’s welcome, there were a few people who applauded Harry’s return.

As expected, the person that he wanted to see was waiting just outside of his office.

“Inside,” Harry said, jerking a finger towards the door roughly.

Once they were both inside, Harry pointed to the chair in front of his desk.

“Sit,” Harry ordered. Elaina Andrews knew better than to protest when Harry was only giving orders in one word and so she sat.

“Sir, I want to---”

“Stop,” Harry barked. “This is going to be easier if you don’t talk for the moment. Am I clear?”

Elaina nodded in response.  _ Good,  _ Harry thought,  _ she’s listening. _

“Now, things between you and I have certainly been better,” Harry said firmly. “You ratted me out to Kingsley and I knocked you unconscious. For that, I’m sorry.”

“What?” Elaina asked.

“I’m sorry that I knocked you out,” Harry repeated. “I’m sorry that I gave you grief for reporting me. You were doing your job and looking back, I appreciate that.”

Elaina gave Harry a soft smile but remained silent.

“Now, we need to be looking forward,” Harry said as he reached into his bag and pulled out the file that he had on Legion. Months ago, the file had been nothing more than a description. Now, the file was several inches thick with information on Legion, possible connections to Odin and the Peverells, the Arch, and a dozen different things.

“You and I are going to be working together from here on out,” Harry said. “Take the rest of the day and get up to speed.”

“Yes, sir,” Elaina said, taking the folder in her hands.

“Now, I need you to understand something. You may be my subordinate, but I still expect you to speak up when you think I’m going off the rails. I may not listen, but I still want you to speak. I give you permission to do that and know that I will not fire you if you do.”

“The reason that is important is that we are going to be throwing the rulebook out the window for this one,” Harry said, reading the expression on Elaina’s face as he spoke. She betrayed nothing, so Harry continued.

“Legion isn’t going to be captured using conventional means. We have full access to the Department of Mysteries and I’ve been authorized to deputize a number of people outside the Ministry to act as temporary agents of the Ministry. I’m going to be meeting with them on Saturday at Safe House Four and I would like you to be there.”

“You would?”

“I would,” Harry confirmed. “I asked for you in this position, Elaina. You are a brilliant investigator, but if there is one thing that you could improve upon as an Auror, it would be working in the grey areas. The rest of this case is going to live in the grey. We’re going to be shirking the rules, just like the way I used to do with Dumbledore’s Army. And the people that we’re going to be working with? They’re heroes, legends to the rest of society.”

“But they will be working under the purview of the Ministry and the Aurors, which means that regardless of the fact that you will be working with some of the most famous and talented witches and wizards of our era, the only people you will report to are myself and Hermione. So, you will be at that meeting and you will introduce yourself to my people.”

“And they’ll trust me?”

“Of course they will.”

“Why would they? They were children and helped you defeat Lord Voldemort. Who am I compared to them?”

“That’s true,” Harry replied. “They are a truly gifted bunch. They also trust me, which means that if I tell them to trust you, they will trust you.”

“You’re sure?” Elaina asked nervously.

“I’m sure,” Harry said with confidence. “You follow me and they’ll follow you. All I need is for you to trust me and we’ll make sure that we put Legion back in his hole.”


	20. Unity

Since Teddy’s abduction, Harry woke up every morning expecting to get word that someone else had been taken. Thankfully, thus far, no one else had been abducted by Friday morning when Harry awoke. Breathing a sigh of relief that they seemed to have more time, at least for the moment, Harry went about his morning routine before heading off to work.

Work had been a strange experience since his reinstatement. While he was back to being the Head Auror, almost none of his immediate duties had anything to do with the Aurors. Harry spent most of his days with Malfoy and Elaina down in the Department of Mysteries, scanning the runes and coming up with new ways to test them. After hours of runework, Harry and Elaina would return to his office where they would process all of the paperwork that the Aurors had filed that day before heading home.

However, instead of heading home, Harry met Hermione before heading to The Burrow for dinner with Teddy. Just after Harry’s reinstatement, he had received a letter from Teddy asking if he and Hermione could come over for dinner. Of course Harry wanted to, but he wasn’t certain that both he and Hermione would be welcome at the Burrow at the same time.

However, only a few moments after receiving Teddy’s letter, Harry received another message from Arthur, inviting Harry and Hermione to dinner. Clearly, Arthur had anticipated Harry’s reaction and sent his own message to ensure that Harry would understand that they were welcome at The Burrow.

Still, the first two nights of dinner hadn’t been the most comfortable experience in the world. More than once, Teddy had asked questions about Ron, who had stopped by to visit earlier in the day. Rather than answer, Harry deflected the question for the moment, knowing that he would have to answer them sooner or later. Thankfully, Teddy was a ten-year-old boy and while he was very bright, he was also easily distracted.

For the third time that week, Harry and Hermione arrived at The Burrow, only to be assaulted by a small child wrapping his arms around their waists.

“How was your day?” Teddy asked Hermione, who he had taken quite a liking to over the last few days.

“I think we’re all glad that this week is over,” Hermione replied warmly. “How about you? How was your day?”

“Molly and I had a lot of fun,” Teddy answered. “We made homemade ice cream and then she taught me how to degnome the garden.”

“Degnome the garden, huh?” Harry asked, thinking fondly of the first time he helped Ron and the twins degnome the garden before his second year at Hogwarts. “Throw any beyond the fence?”

“Not quite,” Teddy replied, “but one got close!”

“That’s my boy,” Harry said, patting Teddy on the shoulder. Just then, Molly entered the kitchen, carrying a vat nearly the size of Teddy filled to the brim with potatoes.

“Merlin, Molly, how many people are you feeding?”

“Two more than usual,” said a voice behind Harry. Harry turned and, much to his surprise, saw Ron and Gabrielle standing behind them. Almost immediately, Harry began to sweat nervously as he peeked out of the corner of his eye and saw Hermione standing there with a look of obvious surprise on her face.

“Oh,” Harry mumbled. “That’s…”

“Relax, Potter,” Gabrielle replied. “If we wanted to kill you, we could have done that when your back was turned to us.”

“Yes, but where would the fun in that be?” Ron asked, which earned him a punch in the arm from his fiance.

“We didn’t know you were coming,” Hermione said nervously. “We can go if you want.”

“No one is going anywhere,” Arthur said as he entered the room, tossing his copy of  _ The Daily Prophet  _ in the trash bin. “We invited Ron and Gabrielle so that we could all sit down and just enjoy dinner together.”

“Do you think we can do that?” Molly asked as she waved her wand, pouring gallons of boiling water over the potatoes.

Harry looked at Ron, who looked surprisingly happy to be there.

“We’ll be fine, Mum,” Ron replied before looking down at Teddy. “It’s quite a warm day out. You up for a swim?”

“Ron, it’s September!” Molly fussed.

“It’s also hotter outside than it is in your oven,” Ron countered. “He’ll be fine, right?”

“Right!” Teddy said before turning to Harry. “Can I go?”

Harry nearly asked Teddy why he needed Harry’s permission. Then Harry remembered that he was Teddy’s guardian. Of course Teddy would ask his permission. It was how he was raised.

“Go upstairs and change. I’ll go out and watch you,” Harry said with a smile. Teddy gave a shout of elation before sprinting up the stairs. In what seemed like no time at all, the sound of footsteps came pounding the stairs again before he raced past Harry and through the back door.

Harry immediately followed Teddy, but when he went to go close the door, he was surprised to see that Ron was coming as well. Clearly, there was something that Ron wanted to talk about away from Arthur and Molly. Getting Teddy to go for a swim had just been his cover.

The three of them walked up the hill towards the lake. Immediately, Teddy dashed into the water before completely submerging himself.

“Stay close to the shore!” Harry shouted when Teddy came back up for air. “Dinner will be ready soon.”

“Is it strange?” Ron asked as they watched the young boy throw himself in and out of the water repeatedly.

“It’s...new. I honestly haven’t been around much recently, especially after I got reinstated. I’m just hoping that we can take care of Legion, so that I can be as good a father to him as your father was to me.”

“Good luck with that,” Ron mused. “Not many fathers I know are better than mine.”

“I have no hope of being better, just good enough.”

“You and me both,” Ron replied. “Speaking of Legion, can I assume this meeting tomorrow is about that?”

“It is,” Harry said. “I’m doing what I should have done months ago. I’m telling everyone.”

“Good, good,” Ron said, although Harry sensed there was more that Ron wanted to say.

For a few moments, both of them stood in silence, watching Teddy swim. Eventually, Ron spoke up again.

“So listen, I know that I’m not an expert in runes or anything like that, but if you need some extra help, I want to help.”

Harry honestly couldn’t believe that Ron was offering to help, especially after the events of the last few weeks. Was this Ron’s attempt to start rebuilding their friendship? In either case, Harry didn’t feel as if he could say no.

“It’s alright. I don’t know much about runes either,” Harry admitted. “What made you want to help?”

“Well, I’ve been talking with Bill and he says that there’s still a lot of work to do if you are going to capture Legion,” Ron replied. “Plus. I do...I want things to be better...between us. I’m still mad every goddamn day, but I want that to go away. I think it will, but it’s going to take time and I mean, I can’t very well do that if you’re dead.”

Harry knew that was about as close as he was ever going to get to Ron admitting that he cared about Harry, even after everything that had happened between them. Ron had never been particularly good at expressing his emotions, even as he grew to understand them better. Still, Harry couldn’t help but feel a small sense of joy at the idea that Ron wanted to help because he wanted to make sure that Harry and Hermione were safe.

“That’s true,” Harry replied. “Listen, I’m going to offer everyone the opportunity to help at the meeting tomorrow. Once I know how many people we have, then I’ll be able to tell you what I can use you for.”

“That sounds good. At the very least, I am still pretty good with a wand.”

“I don’t know that a wand is going to help us much, Ron.”

“No, but it could give you and Hermione more time to figure things out. Either way, if something would happen to you or Hermione and I could have helped prevent it and didn’t, I don’t think I could live with that, even if I am still pissed at you.”

That might have been one of the most genuinely thoughtful things that Harry had ever heard Ron say. In a normal situation, Harry might have told Ron as much, but he was still glad that Ron was even talking to him at the moment. Pointing out that Ron might have been a touch sentimental was a good way to send Ron back into his shell, something that Harry wanted to actively avoid if he could.

All in all, dinner was a relatively normal affair. There were moments of awkwardness between the three couples and the curious ten-year-old, but for the most part, things seemed to be slowly returning to something resembling a normal state. Of course, Harry was well aware of the fact that it would be quite some time before things were normal between him, Ron, and Hermione. But if an evening with Teddy, Molly, and Arthur even resembled normal, then Harry was going to consider that a win.

Harry and Hermione left early that night, returning to Hermione’s apartment to get some rest before what would likely be a stressful meeting in the morning. In truth, Harry’s intention had been to escort Hermione back home and then return to his own home. He had been on his way out the door when Hermione reached out and grabbed his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Hermione asked.

“I was going home,” Harry replied.

“You know that you can stay here, right?” 

“Of course, I know that I can stay,” Harry replied, although he hadn’t honestly had that thought. “I just figured...Well, I thought that….you know, things might be easier if I...wasn’t here...all the time.”

Hermione smiled at Harry, that same smile that had caused him to fall for her years ago. It was gentle and warm and so damned easy for her to do.

“I know that now isn’t a great time for...well, for anything if we’re being honest,” Hermione started, her eyes not quite meeting Harry’s, “but if you wanted, I thought, maybe, you could stay here for awhile, if you want. See how it goes?”

She was asking him to move in with her, Harry realized, the idea hitting him like a ton of bricks dropped from the top of the Astronomy Tower. Harry was obviously in love with Hermione and he wanted nothing more than to be with her as often as possible. But he had never even considered the idea of them moving in together, at least not so soon. Harry supposed that there was something a bit too permanent about that in Harry’s mind.

It made them seem like a real couple, something that they had both actively avoided for years. Only there was no reason to continue avoiding that. In fact, that was the one thing that Harry wanted more than anything else.

“Of course!” Harry sputtered, trying to not to seem too pleased with the idea. His attempt to be casual failed naturally, which only caused Hermione to smile even wider. 

“Good,” Hermione replied bashfully. “I have some of your clothes here. We can go for the rest of them in the morning if you like.”

And so for the first time, Harry stayed the night at Hermione’s as something more than the friends that they had always been and something more than the casual sexual partners that they had been for the last few years. Harry wasn’t particularly a fan of the word boyfriend. It made him think of fifteen-year-olds sneaking off into broom closets. No, Hermione was his partner in every sense of the word, just as she had been since that fateful Halloween when they were both just eleven.

When the pair of them woke up, Hermione agreed to make breakfast while Harry returned to his home and quickly packed up the rest of his belongings. Having lived his life so far away from the rest of the world for so long, it didn’t take much time. By the time he returned, Hermione already had a plate full of bacon set on her small kitchen table with a pan of eggs working.

“So you are aware, I do not normally make breakfast,” Hermione said over her shoulder.

“Why not?”

“Well, I’m not a very good cook, am I?” Hermione asked. Harry said nothing and simply chewed on some bacon in response. Hermione turned over her shoulder and saw Harry’s reaction to her question and laughed.

“We both know it’s true!” Hermione chortled. “Plus, I typically arrive at work around seven and I don’t like being up much earlier than I have to.”

“Sounds a bit like me,” Harry replied. “I always thought that we didn’t have breakfast before because it would have been too much like something a couple would have done.”

“Oh, that was a good excuse, yes,” Hermione said, “but I was also glad that I didn’t have to cook too often.”

“Well, I think this bacon is pretty spectacular.”

“Great. Compliment me on the easiest thing in the world to make.”

“It’s quite easy to burn bacon actually. Of course, some people like it that way, but that’s never really been my preference.”

“So you really do like it?” Hermoine asked.

Harry could see that she was nervous about more than just her cooking. She had gone out onto a limb the night before by inviting Harry to move in, even if it was technically temporary. Harry stood and approached her from behind, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.

“I love it,” Harry whispered in her ear, causing Hermione to shutter, “and I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Hermione said, craning her neck back to place a kiss on Harry’s cheek. “But, if you don’t sit down and eat already, we’re going to be late for the meeting.”

Thankfully, they were not late for the meeting, which was set to take place in Safe House Four, formally known as 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry and Hermione arrived at the fountain just a block from the Safe House and were pleased to see that everyone that had been invited had already arrived.

Dean and Ginny stood on the far side of the fountain, talking quietly with Luna and Neville. Closer to them stood Bill and Fleur, the latter of whom appeared to be in the midst of a conversation with Draco Malfoy and Elaina Andrews. Finally, Ron and Gabrielle sat on a bench while George and Angelina sat on a bench opposite them.

When Harry and Hermione arrived, all conversations stopped and all eyes fell on them, likely for more than one reason. First, they were the leaders of this meeting after all. Second, there was likely going to be some matter of conversation about Harry’s recent run of untruthfulness that was causing some lingering tension.

“Follow me,” Harry said, leading the party from the fountain to the front step of 12 Grimmauld Place, which appeared to them all now, having been allowed inside its wards by the Ministry. Harry marched up the front step and through the door before climbing all three flights of stairs to get to the main meeting room on the top floor.

Once Harry was inside, he waved his hand around the room.

“Please, find a seat.”

Not surprisingly, all of the couples remained together with Ron and Gabrille sitting on the same side as Ginny and Dean, while George, Angelina, Bill and Fleur faced them. Malfoy sat at the far end of the long table facing Harry and Hermione, who sat closest to the door. Only Elaina remained standing in the corner of the room, clearly out of her element among the gathered party.

“Firstly, we’d like to thank you all for coming,” Harry said warmly. “I know that things have been complicated among some of us recently. Hermione and I recognize this was our doing and for that, all we can say is that we are sorry and that we’ll do better in the future.”

There was a moment of pause as the room let those words before George spoke up.

“Harry, we’re not here to talk about you and Hermione,” he said firmly. “As far as I know, you and Ron talked. He’s here which means that he hasn’t left you for dead and that’s good enough for the rest of us.”

“Now, can we get on with zees?” Fleur asked. “I have children at ‘ome.”

Trust George and Fleur not to beat around the bush.

“That’s fine with me,” Harry replied. “Now, some of you know some of this information. None of you, save for myself and Hermione, know all of it. I’m going to get us started, then Hermione and Malfoy and Bill can fill in some of the gaps. Is that alright with everyone?”

Harry saw everyone around the room give a gentle nod that was his cue to start. Over the next two hours, Harry and Hermione laid out the sequence of events that lead to Legion’s escape, his first three murders, his initial and subsequent encounters with Harry, and their most recent interaction with Legion and Teddy. During this time, they also explained some of their theories of Legion’s origins, his potential identity, and, most importantly, how to return him to his cell inside the Arch.

Once they were done, Harry let everyone go for a brief ten minute break. As everyone stood up, he could tell that there were a lot of questions that remained, questions that Harry wasn’t certain he would have good answers for. Still, Harry knew that he would do his best.

When the break was over, Harry asked everyone to return to their seats before opening the floor for questions. As expected, the first question was the one on everyone’s mind and it came from George.

“You’ve known for quite awhile now that Legion was targeting your friends and family. Even if you assumed that your vision wasn’t literal, why didn’t you tell the people that were in the vision?”

“George, unfortunately I do not have a good answer for that question,” Harry admitted. “I gave everyone security, but I told none of you why. At the time, I thought that it was better that you be protected, but not have to worry about Legion until there was a reason to.”

“He exists!” Ginny snapped. “Isn’t that a reason enough?”

“Yes, it is,” Harry replied. “Listen, I know that I screwed this up. Believe me when I say that there are a number of things that I wish I could go back and fix about this whole thing. I made mistakes. You know, Dumbledore once said something to me once. He admitted that he made mistakes, only they were usually bigger because of how clever he was.”

“Mate, no one thinks you’re as clever as Dumbledore,” Neville scoffed.

“Neither do I,” Harry said. “Neither do I. But I have been responsible for the safety of a lot of people over the years. When I make mistakes, people die. This was a mistake that I made and I own that. I’m just thankful that I have the opportunity to fix that before one of you got hurt as a result.”

“Did Andromeda know?” Bill asked.

“She knew as much as she wanted to know,” Harry answered. “I would have told her more, but she saw how afraid of it I was. That was enough for her. She took Teddy and left England the next day.”

“And Legion still found them,” Dean said, a note of terror in his voice as he stood. “No one knew where they went and it still found them.”

“Yes, it did,” Harry confirmed. “There’s no running from this, Dean. The only way through this is forward.”

“This is mental,” Dean replied.

“Dean, sit down,” Ginny barked.

Suddenly, Dean turned to Ginny.

“No, I will not sit down!” he barked. “Your old boyfriend over there is dragging us into some kind of death trap against a god that can find us wherever we go!”

“Dean, that’s enough,” Ginny said evenly, although Harry could tell that she was fuming.

Dean turned back to Harry.

“I’m sorry, mate, but you screwed up on this one and I refuse to be killed for your mistakes! Hell, I’m still not sure that you didn’t murder that Muggle cousin of yours!”

Immediately, Dean bolted for the door. He yanked it open and was about to leave when he noticed that Ginny hadn’t moved from her seat.

“You’re staying?” Dean asked before rolling his eyes. “Of course, you’re staying. It’s Harry blood Potter. You’d stay for him. Hell, for him, you’d probably even have kids!”

Ginny’s wand was out before any of them knew what was going on. In a blur, Ginny’s wand cracked and Dean suddenly found himself pinned against the door, his eyes narrowing on Ginny, who advanced on him, looking more furious than Harry had ever seen her.

“I’m staying because my family is in danger,” Ginny said, her voice low and threatening. “I don’t know if you noticed this, but half of my family is in this room. Ron and my parents were in that vision, too. But you are right. I’m staying for Harry. I’m staying because he is my friend and even if he is a bloody idiot sometimes, I don’t want him to die. If that means that I have to stay here and help him fight a god that  _ can find us wherever we go,  _ then that’s what I’ll do.”

“And as for not wanting to have children, Dean?” Ginny added, her voice dripping with venom. Harry had been afraid of Ginny multiple times in the past, but never like this. 

“That’s because I didn’t think you’d make a good father. I thought you were immature and incapable of taking care of something other than yourself. I still loved you, despite all of that. But I cannot abide this. You have bitched and moaned for years that you never felt like you were a real part of my family because you didn’t play a big part in the Battle of Hogwarts or the rest of the war. This was your chance! You could have stayed and fought for my family,  _ your family.  _ Instead, the second you realized what we were up against, you wanted to run out the damn door.”

Ginny twisted her wrist and Dean fell to the floor. Then, with two separated waves, Dean rolled away from the door and the door came flying open.

“There it is then. Door’s open. Tell your Ministry bimbo how uncaring your wife is.”

The room was silent except for the stressed breathing coming from Dean, who looked from Ginny to Harry to Hermione and back to Ginny, whose face betrayed no emotion. She simply stood and waited, glaring at her husband coldly.

Finally, Dean stood, gave the room one final look, and then turned his gaze back to Ginny.

“I’m sorry,” Dean replied. “I’m just not cut out to do this kind of thing.”

“No one said that you had to fight,” Ginny countered. “But you ran anyway.”

Dean could see that he had lost this battle and nodded gently.

“I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

“Don’t be,” Ginny said harshly before raising her wand, slamming the door in Dean’s face. For a few seconds, no one moved, no one even breathed. Finally, Ginny returned to her seat and the room finally released its breath.

“That’s been coming for awhile now,” Ginny admitted. “Just needed a reason.”

“I’m sorry, Gin,” Harry said. 

“Don’t be,” Ginny replied, her eyes fixed on the door. “Anyway, let’s get back to this. If anyone is up for a drink later, I’m buying.”

That last comment elicited a small burst of laughter in the room, releasing most of the tension that had just been formed by Ginny and Dean’s (seemingly final) argument.

“Well, the way forward is actually pretty simple. I’ve authorized the use of a number of Safe Houses around England for every person in this room plus Arthur and Molly.”

“What about Percy and Charlie?” George asked.

“I talked to Charlie yesterday. He needed to return to Romania for some work there anyway, so the timing is relatively convenient for him,” Harry replied. “As for Percy, his position at the Ministry grants him access to round the clock surveillance if needed anyway. I told him that he was welcome to move into one of the safe houses, but he didn’t seem to think it was necessary.”

“Did you tell him that it was?” Ron asked. “We all know that Percy is not necessarily the most adaptable person.”

“I told him everything on Thursday, if that’s what you were asking,” Harry answered. “He still chose to stay at his home.”

“So we have safe ‘ouses. How does zis ‘elp us to stop zis monster?” Fleur interrupted.

“First and foremost, it’s the best we can do to keep you safe while having you still remain in the country. Second, it gives us a place to coordinate. On my end, I’ll have every Auror in the office assigned to Legion in some way. We’ll cast as wide a net as we possibly can. In the meantime, we have two items that we need to figure out: the Arch and the ritual. More than likely, the ritual itself needs to be undone before we can get Legion back inside the Arch, so that becomes our main priority.”

Everyone around the room seemed to be in agreement with that plan. Glad that he wasn’t going to receive any pushback on that, Harry pressed on.

“Malfoy and Bill will continue to head up research on the Arch,” Harry said, reviewing the notes in front of him. “They will likely be assigning texts for everyone to review each night. Please take your time with these. We would rather go slow and make sure we got everything than miss something that could be essential.”

“At the same time, Hermione and Elaina will be guiding the research on the ritual itself. Unfortunately, we are currently lacking information on how the ritual was done beyond some basic information and comments made by Legion. If you are asked by one of them to look into something, that work should immediately become your priority.”

“Do we all understand?”

Again, almost everyone nodded. 

“Great. And is everyone staying in the Safe Houses?”

Uniform confirmation again.

“Good,” Harry said, pulling out a list of rooming assignments. “I have Neville, Luna, and...well, it was supposed to be Ginny and Dean moving into Safe House One.”

“I think Dean will be just fine on his own,” Ginny replied. “I don’t see Legion trying to use him to get to you.”

“I’ll make sure that he gets protection just in case,” Harry replied before looking back at his sheet. “Bill and Fleur, your family gets Safe House Two all to yourself. Same with George and Angelina and Safe House Three.”

“Wait,” Gabrielle said suddenly. “Does that mean...?”

“You and Ron...are staying here with Hermione and I,” Harry said, knowing that this would cause some issues. “Malfoy and Elaina will be staying here as well.”

Harry ignored everyone else in the room and looked down to where Ron was seated. Ron was staring directly at him, a strange look on his face. Eventually, he nodded slightly, indicating his agreement with the assignment.

“Good,” Harry said, breathing a sigh of relief. “The keys for your Safe Houses are on the table here. Press the button and wait five seconds and it will take you to where you need to go. All of the other Safe Houses have been connected to this one via Floo. If we call for another group meeting, that’s how you’ll get here. Any questions?”

Harry took a quick look around the room and saw that there were none.

“Go home, get packed, and be in your Safe Houses by eight o’clock tonight,” Harry replied. “You’ll be able to go to work, but please do not go anywhere but work and the Safe House without clearing it with me. I know that this is going to be tough on everyone, but the sooner we do this, the sooner we can catch this monster.”

With that, Harry considered the meeting over and began collecting his items. As he did this, the rest of the attendees quickly grabbed their keys and cleared the room with a few exceptions. Ginny remained in the room, standing at the window, clearly waiting to speak with Harry.

But before he could talk to her, Neville and Luna approached him.

“Harry, can we ask you something?” Neville asked nervously.

“Of course.”

Neville looked at Luna, who smiled at him, before turning to Harry, articulating what Neville was too nervous to ask.

“We’re getting married!”

First, that was not a question. Second, that was not anything that Harry expected to hear. Still, after a moment of surprise, Harry’s reaction was nothing but joy for his most bizarre friends.

“Wow!” Harry exclaimed in surprise. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” Neville replied. “We’re excited.”

“I’m sure you are,” Harry commented, noticing Ginny look at them over her shoulder. The look on her face could not have been more dissimilar to the looks of love and joy on Neville and Luna’s. “You haven’t been dating that long, have you?”

“No, like I said at your party, we’ve been dancing around each other for years,” Neville replied. “Once we realized how well we worked together, we decided there’s no time like the present!”

Harry knew that they were trying to keep their voices down, but they were failing as Harry could see the pain easily reflected on Ginny’s face in reaction to their announcement.

“We want you to officiate the wedding,” Luna said, stunning Harry.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, we were friends through you and the DA,” Luna explained. “If not for you, then we might have never met. It makes sense that you would be the one to help us...what’s the phrase? Tie the knot?”

Harry could see that there was some narrative poetry to Harry being the one to marry them. Despite the fact that he hadn’t been a particularly good friend to them over the years, or perhaps because of that fact, Harry found that he couldn’t say no.

“Right. Well, of course, I’ll do it,” Harry said warmly. 

“Oh, thank you, Harry,” Luna replied, hugging Harry tightly.

“You are quite welcome,” Harry said as Luna let him go. “Now, if you don’t mind…”

Harry gestured to Ginny, who had turned away from the happy couple and was staring out the window. Immediately, Neville and Luna got Harry’s message and quietly apologized before darting out of the room, leaving Harry alone with the quietly grieving Ginny.

Much like Harry had on the night they had last spoken, Harry joined her in silence, staring out the window at the Muggles who walked past the house on the street below, having no idea that an entire magical structure was hidden from their view.

“I’m sorry for that,” Ginny muttered. 

“Ginny, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Harry replied. “I’m sorry that things played out in public like that.”

“Part of me thinks it might be for the best. Dean was always on his best behavior around others, even when we were fighting at home. I know that Mom thought I was being too hard on him.”

“But the others saw what happened today,” Harry replied. “They’ll know.”

“I just wish it hadn’t come down to that. Things had been pretty alright since our talk. He told me everything about his coworker, her name was Tonya, and he agreed that there was something there, but that he never would have left me. Now, I think it wasn’t because he loved me, but because he was too much of a coward to go through with it.”

“Well, you were at least right about one thing.”

“What’s that?” Ginny asked.

“He does seem to hate me.”

Ginny laughed at that, albeit briefly and more out of spite than genuine happiness.

“That he does,” Ginny admitted. “I still don’t know how that happened.”

“Will you go back to him?” Harry asked.

Ginny shook her head. “I’ve given him more than enough chances to grow up. I’m not going to waste my thirties babysitting an immature man-child. We’ll obviously have to talk about how the divorce is going to work, but beyond that, I doubt I’ll interact with him much ever again.”

“Merlin, divorce,” Ginny suddenly added. “Growing up, that just wasn’t a thing that I ever saw a wizarding couple do. It just wasn’t part of our culture.”

“I don’t think anyone ever wants to have to go through that,” Harry replied. “It’s going to be hard, but at least you’ll have the chance to live your life again. You won’t be wasting your time being married to someone that you don’t trust.”

“I just never thought that would be me,” Ginny admitted. “Although, to be fair, I thought that I would be married to you.”

“Well, I’ve never been one to live up to expectations.”

“That’s not true,” Ginny countered. “Recently, maybe. But you were better than any fairy tale version of Harry Potter that anyone could have cooked up. You were a good person, a powerful wizard, and you believed in people.”

“You say that like it’s not true anymore.”

“Well, you’re a more powerful wizard,” Ginny replied, “and I know in your heart that you are a good person. But to the rest of the world, we haven’t seen much of that.”

“I wish you were wrong about that, but I know you aren’t. I’m trying to be better.”

“You have a pretty high standard to live up to,” Ginny replied. “Not many people can say that they’ve actually been Harry Potter.”

“Been?” Harry asked. “Last time I checked, that was still my name.”

Ginny turned to Harry and gently reached up, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Harry, you of all people should know that there’s a difference between being Harry Potter and  _ Harry Potter,”  _ Ginny said wisely. “I know that the second one is a lot of pressure, but the world is a better place when it has someone like that to lead it.”

Over the last few months, a number of people had mentioned that Harry had fallen off from the standards that he had set for himself as a young adult. He knew that they were right, but this was the first time that someone had so clearly articulated  _ why  _ that was a problem. 

Harry had never really thought of himself as much of a leader. But that was because he was viewing that through the lense of desire rather than ability. Harry never truly desired to be a leader. If given the chance, he would have gladly let someone else take the reins and lead the cart.

But when the situation was dire, and there was no one else there, time and time again, Harry had stepped up and been the person to follow. Over the last decade, Harry had gone from being the person willing to do it when there were no other options to the person who refused to lead at all. He knew why. Harry had told himself that he had led for most of his childhood. That as an adult, he could allow others to lead in his stead.

But Harry had one thing that those others didn’t have: experience. Harry had been tested, molded by fire, over and over again. Even Hermione didn’t have that same kind of pressure put on her until after the war. She had been his guide, his most trusted advisor, but when the time came, everyone had looked to him.

Who did they look to now? Kingsley? Kingsley had clearly fallen into the trap that most politicians fell into: he wanted to be liked more than he wanted to lead.

Ultimately, the question was simple: what did Harry want to do? Did he want to continue hiding from the responsibility that he had been trained to bear almost from birth?

Or did he want to finally take back the mantle of leadership that he had so desperately tried to abandon the moment the war had ended?

It was a thought that Harry came back to time and time again over the next week as Harry began leading the Aurors in a new direction. On Monday morning, he informed the entire Auror office of the nature of the threat that they faced. He repeatedly encouraged Kingsley to do what Elaina had urged him to do months earlier and tell the public the truth about Legion. Even when Kingsley refused, Harry persisted in his demands. Harry worked day and night, orchestrating the entire Auror Office into searching for Legion, hoping to find it before it could attack someone else.

At the same time, Safe House Four was creating its own demands. Obviously, living with Malfoy was never going to be easy, but Harry had known that he was the only one who would tolerate the former Slytherin. But the awkward nature of his relationship with Ron and Garbrielle made things worse.

Hermione had asked Harry why he chose Ron and Gabrielle to stay with him. At the time, Harry had given some answer about Ron wanting to help, stating that if Hermione needed him, they would at least be in the same house. In truth, Harry knew that part of the reason had been that he wanted the opportunity to continue to repair his relationship with Ron.

For the better part of two weeks, that didn’t seem likely to happen. Ron and Gabrielle ate their meals separately from the rest of the house. They spent their time locked in the bedroom that had once been Harry and Ron’s. Fourteen days passed and Harry could count the number of times that he had seen Ron or Gabrielle on one hand.

All that changed on a Friday night. Harry, after two weeks of murderously long and difficult days at the Ministry, returned home to the Safe House around midnight, having worked since five that morning. Harry would likely be back at the Ministry by six the next morning, which meant that he should have been sleeping. But the tension in Harry’s work was coming home with him. He was getting short with Hermione for no reason and had barked at Elaina more than once for the crime of simply being in the hallway when Harry was coming through.

Rather than immediately climb into bed, Harry instead chose to grab a bottle of Fred’s Finest and sit in front of the fire, sipping on some firewhiskey and letting the tension of the day fade away before he went to sleep. The first glass went down quickly and Harry poured himself another when he noticed someone else walk into the room.

Ron sat in front of the fire, clearly unaware of the fact that Harry was in the room. He had brought his own bottle with him, setting it down on the table next to his chair. For nearly five minutes, Harry sat in silence, waiting for a good time to speak up.

Eventually, Ron turned to fill his glass and froze, staring at Harry who sat in the chair opposite him.

“How long have you been here?” Ron asked.

“About twenty minutes,” Harry replied.

“You were here when I sat down?” 

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What was I supposed to say?”

“Something? I could have come down here to talk to myself or something.”

“I think I would have said something then.”

“Good,” Ron replied, leaning back into his chair.

“Do you want me to leave?” Harry asked.

“You’re fine,” Ron said. “Just as long as you don’t expect to talk much.”

“I figured as much.”

Harry and Ron sat in silence for an undetermined amount of time, each of them lost in their own thoughts as they sipped on their whiskey. They had done this so many times before by the pond at the Burrow that Harry found himself remembering all those times. They were good times, but the memories were tainted by the truth that Harry had been lying to Ron during each and every one of those memories. It would be years before he would look upon those memories with anything but disgust as his own behavior, a punishment enough for the way he and Hermione had acted.

“How are things at the Ministry?” Ron asked suddenly.

Harry was so surprised by the question that he didn’t immediately answer, causing Ron to turn and look at him. Finally, Harry’s mouth started working again.

“They’ve been overwhelming,” Harry admitted. “I was barely Head Auror long enough to get into a flow before. Now, I’ve been away for awhile and I’m trying to orchestrate a manhunt for a thing that can’t really be hunted in a normal fashion. It doesn’t feel like I’m ever going to catch up.”

“Once Legion is taken care of, you will. You’re too stubborn to fail at anything for too long.”

Harry’s mouth hung open at the show of faith that Ron had just placed in him. Even in ideal circumstances, Ron had never been one to show his true feelings on matters like that and these were certainly not ideal circumstances.

“I...I appreciate that,” Harry replied in astonishment.

“It’s the truth,” Ron said simply. 

That was all they said that night. It was a brief conversation, even by Harry and Ron’s standards, but for Harry, it meant that there might be a way back from all of this afterall. Ron had certainly not forgotten Harry’s transgressions, or even forgiven them, but the fact that he was able to show just the slightest amount of support for him meant everything to Harry.

Legion had done everything it could to tear Harry away from the people that made him more powerful. But with every day that passed, Legion’s failure to do just that made Harry even more confident that the day would come when they would defeat the monster. 

Legion fought alone. While it was incredibly powerful, it ultimately had only itself to rely on. Harry had his family and friends, those that inspired him to do better and to be a better person. That would be the difference. That would be why Harry won.

Harry knew it. He knew it deep in his bones. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Luna, Teddy, the rest of the Weasleys: they would be the thing that would turn the battle in his favor. Even the most powerful entity in the world couldn’t fight back against a family united and each day, they were closer to be united once more.


	21. One Choice Changes Everything

The occupants of Safe House Four, formerly known as 12 Grimmauld Place, fell into a sort of routine after that night. No matter what time Harry got home, Ron joined him in the front room with a bottle of Fred’s Finest. A few times, Gabrielle and Hermione joined them and on one strange occasion, even Malfoy joined in their silent celebration of another day on the Earth.

But for the most part, it was just the two of them. On most nights, they said almost nothing and even on the few occasions that they spoke, the conversations never lasted very long.

Still, Harry appreciated those moments more than anything, especially as work at the Ministry got even more taxing. Every day, Harry started by reviewing the previous day’s efforts with his Aurors before breaking the Office down into a number of teams, each of them tasked with exploring different parts of the country, searching for signs of intense magical power. The Department of Mysteries had even been kind enough (read: been told rather forcibly by the Minister himself) to provide magical sensors, small magical devices that were designed to detect spikes in magical energy. Considering the amount of power that Legion put out, Harry was hopeful that they would pan out and eventually, they would be able to locate Legion’s hiding place.

At the same time, Harry continued to fight with Kingsley. Harry now understood that he had been wrong to keep the information about Legion from the public. Even if they didn’t give the public every detail, Harry now firmly believed that they needed to be informed. Unfortunately, while Kingsley was just as determined to track down Legion as Harry, he was not interested in authorizing Harry or any other Ministry official from briefing the public on the threat that Legion posed.

In the end, Harry knew that it largely wouldn’t matter. Harry even hoped that they would be able to capture Legion without a lot of public mess. But if things went awry (as they normally did), and Legion’s presence became known to the public from any source other than the Ministry, things could turn on them all very quickly. Harry had already determined that if that did happen, he would do everything in his power to ensure that Kingsley himself was the one to fall on that particular sword.

He wanted to resign anyway. There was no reason that anyone else needed to be taken down with him.

Progress on the Arch and the ritual was slow, but steady. In the last week, Bill had already reported that they had finally broken down the runes on the Arch. That meant that all they needed to do was work out the appropriate order and the timing for activating each rune and the Arch should be fully operational once more.

The only concern they had was that the timing seemed to be essential to the operation of the Arch. If they were wrong by even a second, it could ruin the whole process and force them to start over again, time they might not have when dealing with a depowered Legion.

As for undoing the ritual that made Legion into what it was, Hermione had pulled every resource at her disposal in an effort to find a ritual that would give someone Legion-like powers. The only theory they currently had to go on was that it was likely some form of medieval Dark ritual, similar enough in nature to the body restoration ritual that Riddle used to return to his body. This meant that it was less likely to be a series of spells and more likely to be a precise series of instructions, followed to the letter to ensure that the magical circumstances all lined up in such a way to create the desired effect.

In Riddle’s case, that had been restoring his body.

In Legion’s, that was accessing magic at a level unknown to any other human. According to the basic information that the Department of Mysteries had provided them about Legion, there were theories that his power was the result of a massive uptick in the amount of magic that he could access at any given time. In their estimation, this was likely due to the ritual that transformed him from a man to Legion, a ritual that likely drained other magical beings of their magic, infusing Legion with a level of magical power that allowed him to access abilities otherwise inaccessible to even the most powerful of magical beings, such as Apparating beyond wards, easily reading the minds of others, and the general manipulation of magic at a level far exceeding that of a normal wizard.

Unfortunately, after weeks of searching, they were no closer to discovering the actual ritual itself, which meant that they were no closer to finding any countermeasure for it. As work on the Arch reached its final stages, progress on the ritual became the first priority and almost everyone who was living in the Safe Houses was working on it in some way, shape, or form.

Everyone except for Harry himself, who helped Hermione coordinate progress between the Houses but was so busy organizing the Aurors that he had already spent two nights in the last two weeks in his office rather than waste time going home when he would only return to his office in a few hours.

Thankfully, he was a rather gifted wizard, which allowed him to Transfigure his desk into a bed and then back again in the morning.

As the weeks passed into early November, Legion once again remained an enigma. Harry noticed that this seemed to be a pattern of some kind. It would attack and then disappear for weeks on end. At first, he had believed that this was a ploy, a way to keep Harry guessing and to force him to constantly be on edge.

But now, Harry wondered if there wasn’t something else to it. Was it possible that Legion used a great deal of energy when it changed forms? Was it possible that Legion was hiding somewhere out there, weakened by the effort of its reign of terror, only resurfacing when its power had been fully restored? It was an outlandish theory, one that Harry knew had little backing in the facts that he had seen.

Yet, he still couldn’t believe that Legion would choose to wait so long every time. By all accounts, Legion had Harry on the ropes already. He had nearly killed Harry and nearly killed Teddy. In the days following Harry waking up from his coma at St. Mungo’s, he had been as agitated and on edge as he had ever been, reacting to the smallest noises and waking up screaming his godson’s name in the middle of the night.

If Legion had really wanted to capitalize on that terror, it would have attacked right away. Instead, it had already been nearly five weeks since Legion took Teddy and there had been no sign of it anywhere. Based on that fact alone, Harry went searching for an explanation and the only one that truly seemed viable was the idea that while Legion did possess massive reserves of magic, allowing him to perform feats of magic that seemed impossible, these efforts took a great deal out of it, forcing it to hide while its reserves were restored.

If it was true, then it meant that there was a window of opportunity that they could exploit. Of course, that also meant waiting for another attack, which made it an inviable option.

These thoughts flooded Harry’s mind constantly, even when he was trying to focus on his work. 

“Sir?”

Harry turned up to see Abbi Edison standing in the doorway. Clearly, she had been trying to talk to him for quite some time now, especially if she had simply decided to open the door. That likely meant that she had knocked several times and Harry had not answered.

Now, she stared at him in concern, clearly worried that Harry was slipping.

“Yes?” Harry said stupidly, trying to cover for the fact that she had likely watched him stare at the wall for the last minute.

“Hermione asked me to pass a message to you,” Abbi said as she dropped a small scroll onto his desk. “Apparently, there was some sort of magical explosion in Greenland.”

“Greenland?” Harry asked, wondering if that was some sort of code that Harry had forgotten. When he opened the message, he saw that it was not a code. There had apparently been some sort of magical explosion in Greenland, exactly as Abbi had said.

“That’s what she said,” Abbi replied. “Apparently, the Danish government wants us to send a couple Aurors to check it out.”

“Why us?” Harry asked. “Why not Iceland or, you know, the Danish? Why would we need to send Aurors in the first place?”

“According to Hermione, Denmark only has two Aurors assigned to Greenland and they’re both on assignment back in Denmark today.”

“And Iceland?”

“Today is Friday,” Abbi replied simply.

“So?” 

“The Icelandic Ministry of Magic is closed on Fridays.”

What it must be like to run such a small Ministry that you could afford to close the Ministry any day of the week, let alone a work day. Still, Harry knew that the request from Hermione wasn’t really a request.

That really only left him with one choice.

“Send Law and one of his Junior Aurors.”

Abbi chuckled. “Is this a bit banal for a Senior Auror?”

“Normally, yes, but Collin spent all day yesterday bragging about his new wizarding wireless that can pick up a signal from France.”

“So you are sending him to Greenland because he annoyed you?”

“He’s lucky I didn’t fire him,” Harry said under his breath. “He’ll be gone a day. Tell him and then get back to work.”

Abbi chuckled at Harry’s moderate abuse of power but nodded sharply and left Harry alone. Unfortunately, his solitude only lasted a few seconds. Just as the door closed, there was a knock on the other side. At the same time, Harry’s magical mirror began vibrating loudly on his desk.

“Come in!” Harry shouted as he picked up the mirror and put it in front of his face. In less than a second, his image disappeared, replaced by the visage of Susan Finch-Fletchley. Just as Susan opened her mouth to speak, the door opened and Harry was face-to-face with Draco Malfoy. Malfoy stepped into the room, slammed the door behind him, and then turned back to Harry before doing the strangest thing.

He smiled.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” Harry asked, uncertain whether this face was more or less unsettling than his usual sneer.

“The Arch. It works.”

Harry stood, not certain that he trusted his ears to work at the moment.

“What did you say?”

“Bill and I just tested it,” Malfoy said, grinning ear to ear. “It’s still as eerie as it was before. But without Legion inside of it, there are no voices.”

“And you’re certain it will work?” Harry questioned.

“We’ve thrown a number of objects into the Arch in the last hour. None of them have come back out.”

The Arch was working. Whether it would contain Legion was still a matter of speculation, but the fact that Bill and Malfoy, with the assistance of nearly a dozen other people, had finally managed to get it operational again was certainly something to celebrate.

“That’s amazing,” Harry said, happier than he had been for quite awhile. “Tell Bill that I’ll be down to see it in a moment.”

“HARRY!”

At first, Harry was uncertain who had shouted his name. Then, he looked down and saw Susan looking back at him from his desk. In light of the news that the Arch had been restored, Harry had completely forgotten that Susan had called him.

“Sorry, Susan,” Harry said before looking back up at Malfoy. “Give me ten minutes.”

“Right, I’ll see you down there,” Malfoy said, still grinning like a fool as he walked out the door. Once he was gone, Harry sat down at his desk and took the mirror in his hand, euphoria still washing over him.

“Sorry about that. Now, what can I do for you?” Harry asked. Then, Harry really looked at Susan’s face and noticed something. She was crying. Not only was she crying, but she looked terrified.

Immediately, the sense of joy that Harry had felt just moments earlier was swept away, replaced by something far more nefarious.

“What is it?”

Susan was doing her best to compose herself. Unfortunately, she was largely failing. When she spoke, only three words truly came out through her tears.

“...Neville………..greenhouse….gone…..”

Neville.

Greenhouse.

Gone.

While it didn’t take a genius to piece the meaning of those words together given the current climate, Harry wanted to be sure.

“Susan, I need you to take a deep breath and say that again.”

Fighting through the tears and panic, Susan did just as Harry asked and barely managed to get out the following sentence.

“Neville missed a class. He should be in Greenhouse One. He’s gone missing.”

Immediately, Harry’s heart sank deep into his stomach. Neville wasn’t missing. He had been taken. There was no doubt in Harry’s mind that this was another phase of Legion’s plan to torture Harry.

“How long has he been gone?” Harry asked.

“An hour? Maybe two?” Susan replied. “Luna said that he left the safe house around seven this morning. She was working from their house when she got a letter from McGonagall asking when Neville was going to show up for work.”

Immediately, Harry started moving as he spoke, throwing his jacket over his shoulders and sprinting out the door. On his way to the Apparition point, Harry momentarily stopped in Elaina’s office.

“I need the entire Auror Office on standby in five minutes,” Harry ordered. “Call Collin and tell him that I’m cancelling his trip to Greenland.”

“He was going to Greenland?” Elaina asked.

“Yes. Now, Neville Longbottom has likely been taken by Legion. I am going on ahead to Hogsmeade. Once the Aurors are ready, I want you to bring every one of them to Hogsmeade and we’ll begin searching the area.”

Thankfully, Elaina immediately understood the nature of the moment. She didn’t answer any other questions. She just stood and raced out of her office towards the bullpen. As Harry ran towards the Atrium, he could hear her voice echoing behind him.

“Has anyone else seen Neville?” Harry asked as he pulled the phone back up to his face. “How did you find out about it?”

“No, no one has seen him as far as I know, but I have only asked his neighbors. I was supposed to have lunch with Luna today. She had just received the letter when I walked in the door.”

This wasn’t a good sign. It was quite possible that Legion had been watching Neville and Luna for weeks. Legion must have guessed that Minerva would send Neville a letter relatively shortly after he missed his first lesson, a letter that would arrive at just about the same time that Susan, an Auror, would show up.

It wasn’t the most diabolical of plans, but what it lacked in complexity, it made up for in efficiency. Legion knew that Susan’s first call would be to Harry. Now, it was all simply a race against time. Sometime in the last two hours, Legion had taken Neville.

How long would it take Harry to find him?

“Stay with Luna. I’ll be there in a minute,” Harry said before ending the connection. As Harry stepped into the Apparition point, he used the mirror to contact Hermione, who answered almost immediately. Before Hermione had the chance to talk, Harry spoke up.

“Neville’s been taken. Get Ron and come to Hogsmeade.”

Harry immediately ended the connection as he walked up to Neville’s front door. Normally, he would have been patient and polite. Today, he simply pulled the door open and marched inside to find Susan and Luna standing in the foyer. Immediately, Luna raced over to Harry, wrapping her arms around Harry.

Harry had seen many sides of Luna Lovegood over the years, but never before had he seen her like this. She was sobbing and barely able to hold herself up. Harry guided her to a couch in the closest living room, sitting her down before ordering Susan to get her a glass of water.

“You’ll find him, won’t you?”

“You know I will,” Harry said firmly. He rarely made promises these days, because he was too afraid of breaking them. But he knew that he would rather die than break a promise to someone as pure as Luna Lovegood.

“I believe in you, Harry.”

“It won’t just be me, but I appreciate it,” Harry said, smiling despite the horror of the situation. “Why were you here?”

“I was picking up some work to take back to the Safe House before I met Susan for lunch,” Luna replied. “I was only here for twenty minutes when I got the message.

“Before you moved into the safe house, did you notice anyone loitering around the house? Anyone watching you?”

Luna thought for a moment before shaking her head confidently.

“No, I didn’t see anyone. Hogsmeade is a small town. We would know if there was someone strange watching us.”

Harry didn’t feel like now was the appropriate time to remind her that Legion could change shape. For all they knew, Legion had already killed one of their neighbors and taken their form to watch Neville and Luna.

Again, not information he needed to share with Luna at the moment.

Just then, Hermione and Ron raced in the front door with Hermione immediately sitting down on the other side of Luna.

“The Aurors are waiting for you outside,” Ron said as he stopped in front of the two of them.

“Good,” Harry said before looking up at Susan. “I want a team of four Rookie Aurors in here now. Get them and take Luna back to her safe house. Lock yourselves in and you only come out when you get confirmation from me that it is safe. If you do not hear from me by five this afternoon, then you take Luna and you go to the Ministry itself.”

“You got it, sir,” Susan said before running out of the house. Once she was gone, Harry turned back to Luna.

“Luna, I’m going to get him back,” Harry said defiantly. “He’s already taken Andromeda. He’s not taking Neville.”

“Please, just bring him back safe.”

“You have my word,” Harry replied just as Susan and four Rookies came running in the door. “They’re going to take care of you.”

“Come with us, Luna,” Susan said as she took Luna by the arm, pulling her to her feet. Luna managed to keep herself upright long enough to get moving towards the door.

As Susan escorted Luna out of the room, Harry stood and motioned for Ron and Hermione to follow him. Once he was outside, he saw that the rest of the Aurors had lined up in front of Neville’s house, waiting for orders.

“We believe that Neville Longbottom has been taken by Legion at some point in the last two hours,” Harry barked. “I’m placing Hogwarts and Hogsmeade on a lockdown. Abbigail, I want you and your team to search the town. Make sure everyone stays inside their house until I lift the lockdown.”

“Collin, your team will be in charge of searching the school. Take half the Rookie Aurors with you. Search the place top to bottom. I highly doubt that Legion would take him there but you never know.”

“Morgan, Paul, Elaina, and the rest of the Rookie Aurors, you are with me. We’re scanning the grounds, the greenhouses. If you see anything that even remotely looks like it could be a clue where or when Neville Longbottom was taken, you send up green sparks. If you are attacked, red. Are we all clear on our orders?”

All at once, the Aurors shouted in unison.

“Yes, sir!”

“Then move!” Harry barked.

All at once, the entire Auror Office mobilized with each team sprinting to where it needed to go to begin its duties. As he had said, Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, marched towards the grounds of the school. If there was anywhere that they were likely to find a clue, it would be there.

Based on the fact that Minerva sent Neville a letter, Neville had never made it to breakfast, which meant that he likely disappeared somewhere between his home and the school.

“What happens if we find out that he’s fine?” Hermione asked. “What if he just fell asleep in the Greenhouse or something?”

“Do you honestly think that’s what happened?” Ron asked.

“No, but if we mobilize the entire Auror Office because Neville didn’t show up for one class, then---”

“Then I will be sure that someone who has been threatened by Legion is safe,” Harry countered as they reached the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. “That’s my job: ensure public safety. If the public has a problem with the way I reacted, then they can go jump off a bridge.”

And that put that matter firmly to rest.

Just as the Trio reached the entrance to the school, the doors opened to reveal none other than Minerva McGonagall, who looked as if she was ready to murder someone, with a cadre of professors behind her.. Unfortunately, that look didn’t change when she locked eyes with Harry.

“Mr. Potter, I certainly hope you have a good explanation for why I have a team of Aurors racing about the halls of my school,” McGonagall snapped in a tone that very much made Harry feel like he was eleven years old again. In the ten years since Harry had been Minerva McGonagall’s student, Harry had been yelled at by Head Aurors, Department Heads, and, on one notable occasion, the Minister of Magic himself. Still, none of them managed to put Harry in his place quite as well as his former Head of House.

Thankfully, Harry was prepared for McGonagall’s barbed tone and matched it with his own.

“Headmistress, you are aware that Neville didn’t show up for his class. I believe that he was taken by Legion.”

Immediately, McGonagall’s demeanor changed, dropping any edge that might have carried. Now, only concern crossed her face.

“What can we do?” McGonagall asked desperately.

“My Aurors will keep your students safe. I need as many professors as you can spare to help search the grounds. They know the land better than anyone.”

“Of course,” McGonagall said before turning back to Professor Bell. “Get Hagrid.”

Immediately, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor went sprinting off in the direction of Hagrid’s Hut while the rest of them took direction from McGonagall and then from Harry himself, organizing them to search every inch of the grounds. Harry highly doubted that there would be much to find, unless Legion very much wanted them to find it. Still, the more people that were out looking for a potential clue, the more likely they were to come across it.

For nearly four hours, the Professors of Hogwarts combined with the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic to search for any clue, anything that could lead them to Neville Longbottom. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be found. The grounds were massive, but not so large that they couldn’t be walked in a reasonable amount of time and with nearly fifty people walking them, every inch could be covered with ease, meaning that any clue should have turned up.

But by the time the last group of professors came back from the gates, the furthest location on the grounds from the castle, with nothing to show for their efforts, hope quickly began to dwindle and fear spread rapidly in its place. For the professors of the school, not only had one of their own been taken, but likely from school grounds. For years, the adage had been that there was no safer place than Hogwarts. While Harry had never personally experienced any consistent level of safety while in the castle (although that likely had more to do with Harry than the castle), others still believed it to be a refuge for the dangers of the outside world.

In fact, in the entire history of the castle, there had only been two instances of true, castle-wide danger, The Battle of the Lightning-Struck Tower and The Battle of Hogwarts. Only the two times that the Chambers of Secrets had been opened rivaled those days. For a castle that had stood for over a thousand years across hundreds of different political systems and revolutions, Hogwarts had a record of protecting its inhabitants.

It was made worse by the fact that for the students of Hogwarts, this was the first time something like this had ever happened to them. Even the seventh years were only seven years old when something of this magnitude happened. To them, The Battle of Hogwarts was a story that their parents told.

At the same time, most of the professors had been at the Battle of Hogwarts. They thought that the days of Hogwarts being threatened by monsters was finally over.

“There’s got to be something we missed,” Harry barked as he paced back and forth in the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hermione and Ron stood on either side of his path while McGonagall and Filius Flitwick stood at either end of the line that Harry was tracing into the floor.

“Mate, we had people scour every bit of the castle, Hogsmeade, and the grounds,” Ron countered. “I don’t know where else we could have possibly looked.”

“We even checked the Forest as well as we could,” Hermione added. “But once you get inside the Forest, there’s simply too much for any amount of people to search. We could get every person at the Ministry out here and it would still take us days to search it.”

“Days we don’t have,” Harry whispered to himself, doing his best to bury the fear that he felt rising in his chest. “Are we certain that we checked everywhere? The Quidditch Pitch? The Willow? Everywhere?”

“Mr. Potter, I sent two Professors into the Shrieking Shack,” McGonagall replied. “We have searched everywhere. You said that when this Legion took Teddy Lupin, he sent you a letter.”

_ “It  _ sent me a letter, yes,” Harry grunted. “I doubt that it’s going to go with that same trick again.”

Harry strongly believed that in order to get Neville back, he was going to have to truly outhink Legion this time. There would be no hints, no timer. At any given moment, once Legion had truly had its fill of torturing Neville, it would kill the Herbology professor without warning. Of course, it desperately wanted Harry to find Neville. It wanted to put on another performance before trying to kill one of Harry’s friends.

But it would be perfectly satisfied if Harry never found Neville. Hell, that might even be preferable. It would force Harry to wonder about what kind of horror Neville had experienced before he died. Maybe Neville wasn’t even dead? Maybe Harry would give up and Neville would be kept in some dungeon in one of the holes that Legion hid in, allowing him to feed off Neville’s fear until Neville’s body finally gave out.

“Harry?”

Harry turned around to see Hermione, who stood in the middle of the empty hall, a familiar look on her face: she had found a thread to pull.

“What?”

“When was the first time you had been to Neville’s house?” Hermione asked.

“Uh...my birthday?” Harry responded in bewilderment. “Why?”

“Well, much of Legion’s planning seems to be based around the memories that he stole from you. But he stole those memories months ago. He doesn’t have some sort of constant surveillance on you, does he?”

“No, he doesn’t,” Harry replied, still uncertain why Hermione was mentioning this.

“So Legion only knew that Neville lived in Hogsmeade, but it wouldn’t know which house, right?”

“Hermione, he wasn’t even staying in Hogsmeade.”

“No, but he was Apparating to his house and then going to the school,” Hermione explained. “I suppose it is possible that Legion watched Neville come home. Still, that would be at least moderately difficult because the greenhouses are out in the middle of the grounds. Neville would clearly notice if someone was watching him.”

“Legion can’t turn invisible, can it?” Ron asked.

“Not as far as we know,” Harry replied, interested to see where Hermione's train of thought was taking her. “Not anymore than any of us anyway.”

“Then wouldn’t it just be easier to take him from the greenhouses?”

Immediately, Harry realized that Ron was onto something. That was it. That had to be it. They had spent all of their time assuming that Neville had been taken on his way to the greenhouses. But no one even bothered to think that Neville may have been taken from the greenhouse itself.

“Professor, did anyone check the greenhouses?” Harry asked as he started to walk towards the front gate.

“I believe that a couple of Aurors went through it and said that they didn’t notice anything out of place.”

Of course they wouldn’t. While it had been a nice thought that having dozens of people scanning the grounds was going to be helpful, the truth was that the hint was likely only going to be identified by Harry himself. It was going to be something small, a breadcrumb that would lead him to the next clue, much like the hair had been for Teddy.

Harry sprinted out of the front of the castle, Ron and Hermione hot on his heels, as he raced down the sloping grass towards the greenhouses. Neville’s office was actually in the back of Greenhouse One, the larger and safer of the two greenhouses at Hogwarts.

That would be the first place that Harry searched. As he reached the door, he pulled and nothing happened. The door didn’t even bother moving even the smallest amount. Harry drew his wand and whipped it across the door, searching for wards. However, before Harry could even begin processing the wards, McGonagall shoved him out of the way and with three quick stabs of her wands, the wards fell.

With the wards gone, Harry ripped the door open and raced inside, his eyes immediately darting from left to right. Surprisingly, Neville’s office was relatively normal. Harry had expected to see large plants or some kind of magical flora. Instead, he saw a normal office with some small flowers planted in small window planters.

Other than that, it was your standard office, looking remarkably similar to the ones inside the castle, especially when you considered that on the other side of the far wall was a greenhouse.

“Look around. Tell me if you see anything out of the ordinary.”

Harry immediately went to the desk and began tearing drawers open. He searched through file after file, finding nothing that looked like a letter from Legion, although Harry had expected that. The next drawer contained a small bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses, suggesting that Neville drank a bit while at work, but gave no hints to Neville’s location.

Harry was in the process of opening another drawer when he heard Ron gasp behind him. Turning around, Harry saw Ron pull a small stone out of the corner of one of the bookshelves. But this was no ordinary stone. It was small, black as night, and had a triangle with a line and a circle etched in the center of it: the sign of the Deathly Hallow.

“Harry, it’s…”

“It’s the Resurrection Stone,” Harry said as he took the Stone from Ron. It had been just over ten years since Harry had last seen the stone. Just before he entered the clearing to confront Riddle, he had let it slip out of his hand. Now, it sat in his hand once more, completely clean.

Meaning that someone had found it and cleaned it off before intentionally putting it in Neville’s office.

That someone, of course, being Legion.

“I need everyone but Hermione and Ron out of the room,” Harry muttered, his eyes still fixed on the Stone.

As expected, McGonagall did not take that well.

“Excuse me, Mr. Potter?” McGonagall replied, stepping in front of Harry.

Harry, for his part, didn’t bat an eye.

“I need to speak with Hermione and Ron, Professor. I’m asking you and your professors to clear the room.”

“Need I remind you,  _ Potter,  _ that this is my school and it is my professor that has been taken---”

“And I’m telling you to leave,” Harry replied coldly. “Headmistress, know that I have more respect for you than arguably anyone else on this planet. That being said, I have a job to do and unfortunately for you, Head Auror outranks Headmistress, even at Hogwarts.”

McGonagall’s mouth hung open, clearly shocked at Harry pulling rank on her. For a moment, she stood there, mouth agape, uncertain how to proceed. Then, she closed her mouth and composed herself, her hands folding into the sleeves of her robes. Harry didn’t think he had ever seen her look more cross than she was currently.

Of course, none of her former students had ever put her in her place quite so indelicately before.

“Very well,  _ Head Auror Potter.  _ My professors and I will give you room to do your work. We will wait outside.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted was a war with Minerva McGonagall in the middle of all this.

“Thank you, Headmistress. I appreciate it and I will do everything in my power to find Neville.”

“See that you do.”

With that, McGonagall turned on her heel and pointed for the other professors to leave. McGonagall was the last one out the door and when it closed, it slammed with all the force that Minerva McGonagall could muster.

“Merlin, Harry, I thought she was going to murder you on the spot,” Ron said, slightly in awe of the performance that Harry had just put on.

“You’re going to have to apologize to her once all of this is over,” Hermione commented.

“I won’t have to,” Harry replied. “I will, but she understands. She doesn’t like it and it’s rare that someone can ever truly be in a position to supersede her, but she understands.”

“You’ll do it anyway,” Hermione said and Harry noted that it was more of a command than a request.

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry replied before holding the Stone up. “I know where Neville is.”

“Didn’t you drop that in the Forest?” Ron asked.

“He did,” Hermione said, a look of concern crossing her face quickly. “Are you sure?”

“There’s no other place it could be. We have to go there.”

Ron, who had done an amazing job of keeping up with everything thus far, finally reverted to type as he looked at Harry and Hermione in confusion.

“I dropped it right before I faced Riddle. Before he hit me with the Killing Curse.”

That cleared Ron’s confusion up rather quickly.

“Oh, right,” Ron said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but apparently couldn’t find something else to say and instead opted to shrug sheepishly.

“Listen, I know that I’m not talking either of you out of coming with me,” Harry said. “I know that no matter what I do, you’ll figure out a way to follow me.”

“What else is new?” Ron replied. “We’ve been following you into stupid situations for twenty years. Why stop now?”

Despite the weight of the situation, Harry couldn’t help but smile. That was something that Ron would have said until the end of July when their relationship had come crashing to the ground. To hear something like that come from him now meant quite a lot. It meant that the work that Harry had put into rebuilding his relationship with Ron was working.

“In any case,” Harry pressed on, fighting through a small fit of laughter in response to Ron’s comment, “I am not going to stop either of you, but I am going to keep anyone else from entering the area. I’m telling them that I got a message that Legion wants to see the three of us. The Aurors will follow and create a perimeter, nothing more.”

“You honestly think that they’ll do that?” Ron asked.

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but Hermione spoke in his place.

“The Aurors will follow Harry. There are a lot of things that I doubt right now, but Harry’s ability to inspire faith and trust in others is not one of them.”

Harry smiled at Hermione for the comment. Harry’s answer likely would have satisfied Ron, but it was nice hearing that kind of faith from someone else. First, it made Harry appear arrogant. Second, it came from Hermione, which always made it better.

“Blimey, yes, I know the two of you are dating now,” Ron said, rolling his eyes. “It doesn’t mean that you get to be gross in public now.”

“We’re not in public,” Harry replied. “It’s just the three of us.”

“That’s one too many people for me,” Ron replied.

Both Harry and Hermione laughed nervously at that before noticing the small smile on Ron’s face, letting them know that he was, in fact, joking. Relieved, Harry opened the door to the office and walked out. He was not at all surprised that almost all of the Aurors and Professors, outside of those assigned to protect the students, were standing outside the office door, waiting for news.

Harry subtly drew his wand and stuck it behind his back, conjuring an envelope in his other hand, an envelope that he immediately held in the air.

“Legion left me another letter,” Harry announced. “He wants to speak with myself, Hermione, and Ron in the Forest. No one else is permitted to be in the area. Hogwarts staff, if you can please return to the school and await further instruction. Aurors, you’ll form a perimeter around the area at my direction. Not a single one of you steps closer than I tell you.”

Harry turned to walk towards the Forest when he felt a hand on his arm. Turning around, he saw McGonagall facing him, a strange look on her face.

“He didn’t leave you a letter, Harry,” McGonagall said knowingly. “He left you that stone.”

Thankfully, in all the commotion, no one seemed to notice the two of them speaking. Harry looked around to confirm that no one had heard her. When he was satisfied that no one was looking, he turned back to the Headmistress.

“Stone turned into a letter, just like Teddy’s hair,” Harry replied flippantly, holding the envelope up. McGonagall instantly grabbed the envelope out of Harry’s hand and immediately noticed that it was sealed shut. She paused for a moment, clearly considering what to do, before gently lowering the envelope back into Harry’s hand.

“Why is it always you three?” McGonagall asked softly, clearly understanding what they were doing.

“Unfortunately, Professor, I believe that my friend here answered that question about twelve years ago,” Harry replied, tilting his head towards Ron as he spoke. “Get the professors back to the castle, Professor. We’ll take it from here.”

McGonagall reached up and gently placed a hand on Harry’s cheek. Harry had never known the love of a grandmother, but for a moment, he could just imagine what it would be like.

He imagined it would be something like this.

“We couldn’t be in better hands.”

With that, McGonagall dropped her hand down to Harry’s shoulder, grabbing it firmly before releasing him. Without wasting a moment, she turned on her heel and strode back to the school, shouting for her professors to follow her.

She never looked back the whole way up to the castle.

Once she was far enough away, Harry turned back to Ron and Hermione.

“You ready?” Harry asked the two of them.

“Yes,” Hermione replied.

“As I’ll ever be,” Ron added.

Their answers were exactly what he would have expected from either of them. Harry immediately sought out his Senior Aurors, giving each of them exact orders for how far into the Forest their teams were supposed to go before threatening each of them with immediate termination if they deviated by those orders by more than a foot.

Once he was certain that they understood his order, Harry, Ron, and Hermione marched into the Forest. For several minutes, they walked in silence, Harry in between Ron and Hermione. Harry didn’t know what was going on in the minds of his oldest friends, but for Harry, the closer they got to their destination, the more his heart pounded. 

There were plenty of places in the world that Harry didn’t want to visit for a second time. Malfoy Manor had been on that list up until a few months ago as had The Riddle House. If he never had to go to The Chamber of Secrets again, it would be too soon and he really wished that he never had to return to The Department of Mysteries after they defeated Legion and after all these years, Harry had never again visited the Astronomy Tower.

But if there was one place that Harry had truly never wanted to visit again, it was the small grove deep in the Forbidden Forest.

The place where he thought he was going to die.

From the moment that Harry had fallen out of the Penseive until he had seen that green flash of light, Harry had been gripped by fear. Even if he had pushed his way through it, helped by his father’s Invisibility Cloak, that fear had still been there, pounding in his chest, the same way that it was pounding now.

He had been afraid. There was no doubt of that. He knew that his death was essential. He knew that there was no way around it and that one final death would serve to finally destabilize everything that Riddle had fought so long to gain.

Now, ten years later, he walked the same path and that same fear gripped him. Still, as Harry had done dozens of times before, he pressed on, knowing that if he did not, then no one else would. 

And even if they would, it didn’t matter to Legion. It would simply keep coming after Harry long after Harry had given up.

Whether it was her own fear or if she sensed Harry’s trepidation, Hermione reached out and gently took Harry’s hand. Even just the slightest touch made Harry feel better, made him feel less alone. In response, Harry took his other hand and held it out to Ron.

Ron, seeing the hand, stopped walking, his eyes locked onto the hand.

“You should have told me about your relationship years ago,” Ron said, finally looking up at Harry.

“I know...We know,” Harry replied. 

“I don’t mean for me,” Ron countered. “Yes, I’m still mad that you lied to me. But I can’t believe that the two of you wasted so many good years with each other because you were worried about what I would think.”

Ron reached out and took Harry’s hand and then with his other grabbed Hermione’s.

“I don’t know if the two of you want to get married or if you want to have kids or whatever. To be honest, that’s none of my business. Just be with each other. Proudly. Publicly. Stop hiding behind excuses. You’re not too famous and you’re not too important to love each other. You’re just making excuses and I’m fucking tired of excuses. I’ve had enough excuses to last me a lifetime.”

To hear Ron speak bluntly was not a surprise to either of them. But to hear Ron to succinctly support them moving forward, it was not something that he ever expected Ron to say, even years from now if things went back to normal.

Well, whatever normal meant for the three of them.

Ron smiled at the two of them and then released Hermione’s hand.

“Let’s go,” Ron said, leading them onward into the forest, hand in hand with Harry, who walked hand in hand with both of them. And so the trio marched onward, led by the one that everyone, even Harry and Hermione themselves, had always underestimated. Just like the last time Harry had walked this path, he had others to guide him, to support him.

They held onto each other all the way up until they reached the edge of the clearing. Immediately, Harry knew that they had arrived at the place. 

“I’ve been here before,” Ron whispered before turning to Harry. “This was Aragog’s lair.”

“It was,” Harry said as he finally let go of Hermione and Ron and then stepped into the clearing. “After Aragog died, it lay empty for the next year until Riddle took shelter here during the Battle.”

“It’s why the Acromantulas attacked,” Hermione said. “He forced them from their home.”

In the ten years since Harry’s sacrifice at this exact spot, the Forest had reclaimed it with grass finally regrowing on the ground and vines taking control of the trees in the area. While no new trees had grown, it looked as if the Forest had reclaimed the area.

All except for a single spot.

Almost exactly in the middle of the clearing was a spot where nothing grew, a spot that was dead and lifeless. Even the dirt there was black and foul.

“Is that…”

_ “Yes, that is where the magnificent Harry Potter laid down his life to save the world.” _

Immediately, the air chilled and Harry was suddenly frozen in place as Legion, still using the image of Andromeda Tonks, drifted into view. Clearly, it had been waiting somewhere in the woods, watching them as they approached.

However, that was not the only thing that appeared. Just as Legion appeared, a form appeared on a tree near them, his arms strapped to the branches that were attached to the trunk at odd angles. That alone looked painful and the cuts and bruises that covered his nearly naked body told Harry that simply being strapped to a tree was not all that Neville had endured over the last several hours.

_ “The Boy Who Lived and The Boy Who Could Have Been,”  _ Legion mused as it stepped in front of Neville, its eyes at the level of Neville’s feet.  _ “Did you know that, Neville Longbottom?” _

Neville was barely awake, but there was clearly confusion in his eyes as he looked from Legion to Harry and then back to Legion.

_ “You never told the poor boy?”  _ Legion said mockingly.  _ “You never told him how if Lord Voldemort had valued him a bit more, then it might have been him who was the Boy Who Lived? You see, Neville Longbottom, the prophecy that was made prior to your birth, the one that set the entire events of Harry Potter’s life and, in turn, the events of your life in motion didn’t explicitly state that Harry Potter was the Chosen One.” _

_ “Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. That’s what it said. Voldemort took it to mean Harry Potter, who was a halfblood like himself. But that applies to you, too, doesn’t it, Neville Longbottom?” _

Harry found that he was suddenly able to move and instantly attempted to fire a curse that Legion. However, before he could fire off the Killing Curse and grab Neville, he was frozen once again.

_ “I’ve learned, Harry Potter, from my previous mistakes. You see, I realized that it took you quite some time to free yourself the last time. So, I’ll release you and freeze you again and again. You’ll never be frozen long enough to get free and never free long enough to do any harm to me.” _

Legion’s awful frozen smile lingered on Harry for just a moment before turning back to Neville.

_ “That could be you down there, Neville Longbottom. You could have been the famous orphan with famous friends. One choice, one unconscious decision, changed everything for you two. Instead, you are exactly what you have always been: second best. You loved Hermione Granger for most of your life. Who did she choose? Harry Potter. You loved Ginny Weasley before her. Who did she choose? Harry Potter. You even fear that your Luna would give you up if she knew that she had a chance with Harry Potter.” _

_ “And who could blame her?”  _ Legion said, throwing its hand out towards Neville, causing Neville to scream in agony.  _ “You are a decent enough looking man, an average wizard. For most, you would be quite satisfactory. But you are nothing compared to the legend of Harry Potter.” _

Finally, Legion looked back to Harry.

_ “And Harry Potter is just a man, which makes you less than a man.” _

Suddenly, Neville flew across the clearing, landing at Harry’s feet with a grunt. Just as Neville landed, Harry felt himself go free again. Desperately, Harry aimed at Legion before being frozen yet again.

_ “You really are nothing more than a blunt instrument, aren’t you, Harry Potter?”  _ Legion mocked as it sauntered towards him.  _ “I already told you that you wouldn’t be able to curse me and yet you try the exact same thing again with the same results. I believe, Mr. Potter, that is the definition of insanity.” _

“I’m not the insane one,” Harry grunted, desperately trying to force the magic in his body into his hand. Unfortunately, it was simply not efficient enough to do it as quickly as Harry needed.

_ “I’m not insane, Harry Potter. I may appear that way to you, but that’s because playing an entirely different game. I am a giant in a world of ants and in that world, there is no reason for me to be concerned with the lives of the ants.” _

_ “But I do find myself in need of the ants to sustain myself. So, I’m going to give you a choice, Harry Potter.” _

Again, Harry found himself free but Legion reached up and grabbed Harry’s arm, which immediately caused Harry’s entire body to feel as if it had been plunged into the depths of the Black Lake in the middle of winter.

_ “Here’s the deal, Harry Potter: kill Neville Longbottom and the three of you walk free. Refuse and I kill Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. Attempt to kill me and I kill all three of them.” _

With that, Legion simply let Harry go. As Harry stood over Neville, Legion retreated to the edge of the clearing and sat upon a rotting trunk, watching Harry with a vicious smile.

Harry looked down at Neville, who was frozen in place at his knees. Neville was at his mercy, thanks to Legion. All Harry had to do was fire the curse and Harry, Ron, and Hermione would walk out of the Forest alive. Legion had never lied to Harry. Everything that it had said it would do, it had done. He had no doubt that if he murdered Nevile Longbottom, his classmate and one of his oldest friends, in cold blood, then his partner and his best friend would walk out of the Forest, alongside Harry, unharmed.

For a moment, the thought crossed Harry’s mind and it immediately made Harry want to vomit. While Ron and Hermione remained frozen, he knew that they would never want him to do something like that. This was all a game to Legion, a game that was impossible for Harry to win.

So Harry did the one thing he could do.

“I refuse,” Harry said as he threw his wand at his feet.

Of all the things that Harry could have done, Legion had clearly not anticipated this option. Immediately, it stood and the smile disappeared from its awful face.

_ “You can’t refuse,”  _ it said as it marched towards Harry.  _ “Kill the spare or your closest friends will die.” _

“You’re bluffing,” Harry replied, ignoring Legion’s attempt to invoke Harry’s memories of Riddle’s transformation. “If you kill Ron and Hermione now, then the game is over for you. There’s nothing left for me.”

_ “Nothing left?”  _ Legion growled angrily.  _ “If I kill a million Muggles in your name, that would be nothing? What if I found and killed your godson this time? Or even his temporary guardians, Molly and Arthur Weasley?” _

_ “You think that you are strong, Harry Potter, but you are made weak by the very nature of who you are. You care. You care so much about so many people. So many points of weakness. You even care about those people that you’ve never met. I found myself a perfect target, Harry Potter. I could kill everyone on Earth and each of those deaths would weigh on your soul like they were your family.” _

“But they wouldn’t be my family,” Harry snapped back. “You kill Ron and Hermione and you may as well kill me now, because you’ll never get me to go any lower than that.”

_ “Well, let’s see about that.” _

Suddenly, Hermione flew across the clearing, slamming into the tree where Neville had previously been suspended, crying out in pain as he hit the three. Harry moved to raise his wand, only to forget that he had dropped it.

In the time it took for Harry to reach down and grab his wand, Legion froze him again.

_ “Now, kill Neville Longbottom or I will remove her head.” _

Harry could feel the rage radiating off of Legion. For the first time, it seemed like Legion was something more than just an entity. It seemed real, like it truly had feelings, emotion.

And it was furious.

Harry looked up at Hermione, whose arms were stretched too far back to the point where they might almost break, and then back down at Neville. Just as Harry looked down, both Harry and Neville were unfrozen, allowing Harry to move and Neville to drop to the ground.

_ “Do it, Potter. Take the life of your friend to save her.” _

That’s when Neville finally spoke up.

“Do it, Harry.”

Harry froze, not because Legion had forced him, but because that was the last thing that he had ever expected to come out of the mouth of Neville Longbottom. Neville, the one who had inspired them all to fight at the Battle of Hogwarts, even when the battle was lost. Neville, who had always been the sign of optimism and hope that Harry could never have been.

Neville Longbottom, the true hero of the Battle of Hogwarts, was lying in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, telling Harry Potter to kill him to save Hermione Granger.

“Neville, I can’t,” Harry said, his wand shaking as tears began to cloud his vision. He looked down at Neville and back to Hermione. Back and forth he looked and he did nothing. How could he? He loved Hermione more than life itself, but he knew that she would be furious if he sacrificed Neville for her.

But Neville, who looked at him not with anger, but with pity, would certainly feel the same way. He knew how Harry felt about Hermione. He, just like everyone, knew that Hermione was the person in the world who made him feel right. How could he not kill Neville if it meant saving her?

_ “Time is wasting, Potter. Do it  _ **now.”**

The last word came from Legion’s mouth. It was that same voice, or voices rather. The voices of every person that he had ever taken magic from. It sounded like a thousand voices in agony, all of them experiencing the end of their lives as their magic was drained from their very body, their soul disappearing along with it into this monster.

“Do it, Harry,” Neville said as he climbed up onto one knee. Harry’s wand was aimed at Neville’s head. Even in his emotional state, Harry was a powerful wizard. It would take only the slightest amount of effort to kill Neville. He didn’t even need to use the Killing Curse to do it. While that would have been cleaner, Harry knew a dozen different ways to kill someone without it.

Harry’s wand twitched just a bit, but before Harry could pull it back further, something unexpected happened. Neville reached out and grabbed the wand from Harry, rolling onto his back and fired.

_ “Stupefy!” _

Unfortunately, not only did Neville not have the power to cast a Stunner powerful enough to knock Legion out, his spell missed Legion entirely, floating several inches over his head. Still, it was enough to infuriate Legion, who reached out and with a single flick of his right index finger, removed Neville’s left arm at the elbow.

Instantly, blood spurted everywhere, covering Neville, Harry, and Legion in the warm liquid as Neville cried out in pain. He dropped to the ground and attempted to stem the bleeding with his robes, but was frozen in place by Legion. Within moments, the flow of blood began to slow and Neville slipped into unconsciousness.

At the same time, Legion reached out and grabbed both Hermione and Ron, dragging them towards him so that they floated on either side of him.

**“You’ve condemned Neville Longbottom to death, Harry Potter, because you were too weak to make one decision,”** Legion said, its awful voice bouncing off the trees.  **“Now, two people will die today instead of one. You** **_will_ ** **make a decision, Harry Potter: Ronald Weasley or Hermione Granger?”**

“Put them down!” Harry pleaded, knowing that it would do no good.

**“This is your doing. I gave you a chance to save two of them. Now, choose!”**

Harry’s worst nightmare was playing out in front of his very eyes. How many times had he worried about this very thing? His inability to take a life causing the death of the ones that he loved? 

Now, Hermione and Ron’s lives were at stake and Harry saw no way of fixing it.

“Harry, do it!” Hermione pleaded with her eyes closed. “It’s okay. You can do it.”

Harry attempted to raise his wand, but only managed to get it halfway up before he lowered it again. He couldn’t do it. He knew that there was never a chance that he would kill her.

“It’s okay, Harry.”

Ron had never sounded so calm in his entire life. Looking up through the tears that were pouring down his face, Harry’s eyes met Ron’s.

“You know what choice you have to make,” Ron said, smiling sadly at him. “You’re the one who specializes at making hard choices. Now, do it. It’ll be okay.”

“Ron...I can’t…”

“Yes, you can,” Ron said, fighting back tears as he spoke. “Yes, you can, because you are the strongest person that I know. You always have been.”

“I wasn’t strong. I lied to you for years,” Harry cried.

“We all make mistakes, Harry. All we can do is learn from them,” Ron replied. “Listen, The world needs you and the world needs her.”

“We need you.”

“And you’ll always have me. But ever since you were eleven years old, you’ve always been the one to make the sacrifice. When it came time for someone to give something up, you were always the first one in line. You’ve sacrificed enough, Harry. Now, it's my turn.”

“I can’t.”

Ron, who had apparently been released from his bond, reached down and shook Harry.

“Yes, you can! You do this and then you stop Legion.”

**“I grow tired of waiting, Potter,”** Legion barked.  **“Make your choice!”**

Harry looked up at Ron who nodded at him. Harry, who felt as if he had the world suspended on his arm, slowly raised his wand until it was level with Ron’s eyes.

“Do your worst, Potter,” Ron said, a sly grin on his face.

If Ron had remained silent, there was a chance, albeit a small one, that Harry may have actually been able to go through with it. But that one comment, the kind of thing that only someone as brash and as brave as Ronald Weasley would say when quite literally looking death in the face, broke him.

His fingers lost any sensation and his wand slipped from his hand as he collapsed to the ground. He didn’t know what else to do. He just knew that he couldn’t kill his best friend for his other best friend. Hermione was the most important person in his life, but even for her, he couldn’t kill his best friend.

**“You lack the will to be the man that the world believes you to be,”** Legion said, mocking Harry as he circled behind him.  **“You thought that you were strong because you defeated Voldemort. He was a simpleton, a blunt force object. Too foolish to see the countless mistakes that he made and too confident in himself to change his tactics when they failed.”**

**“I am not the same, Harry Potter. I know you better than you know yourself.”**

Suddenly, Legion stepped out from behind Harry, his hand held up towards Hermione.

**“I know your mind. I know how much you love her. And I know how much it will kill you to watch her die, knowing that you could have stopped it.”**

Legion pulled his hand back, clearly readying to attack Hermione. Harry desperately tried to reach out, tried to stop him, but he was too slow. However, at the same time, Ron, freed from the irate Legion, took a step to his right, blocking Legion’s path to Hermione.

Just as Legion’s hand thrust forward, Ron’s chest burst open, spraying blood and bone over Legion and Harry.

“NOOOO!” Harry cried, throwing himself towards Ron, the weight in his body suddenly gone as he caught Ron’s body before it hit the ground. As Harry sank to the ground, he noticed the massive hole in the center of Ron’s chest. It was pulsating, spraying blood everywhere, as Ron’s face quickly lost any color.

“Harry…” Ron whispered, blood spraying from his mouth as he spoke.

“Be quiet, Ron,” Harry said as he reached over and grabbed his wand. Harry was no Healer and his grasp of Healing spells was rudimentary at best, but he was not about to let Ron die. On the other side of him, Hermione sprinted to Neville, who had passed out on the ground, hoping to stop the bleeding.

Meanwhile, Legion stood over all them, a smile on his face, clearly pleased with the carnage he had wrought.

**“Your weakness is the reason they are dead, Harry Potter. You are the reason they are dead. If only you had been stronger…”**

With that, Legion disappeared, leaving Harry and Hermione holding Ron and Neville respectively.

“How is he doing?” Harry asked Hermione over his shoulder.

“...he’s gone,” Hermione replied, fighting back tears, as Harry began casting healing charms over the wound in Ron’s chest. However, nothing he could do would slow down the bleeding enough to truly heal it.

“...it’s...okay….” Ron whispered softly, his eyes already slipping out of focus, as he reached up and grabbed Harry’s hand, preventing him from casting any further spells.

“Ron, I can heal you,” Harry cried, his hands shaking as he tried to pull away. Despite the fact that Ron was clearly slipping away, his grip was strong.

“Not….your fault….”

“Yes, it is,” Harry said, taking Ron’s hands in his. “Yes, it is.”

“Legion…..fault…..only Legion….” Ron said, the breaks in his voice explained by the air rapidly escaping his chest and the blood in his mouth. As he spoke, his eyes fluttered open and shut rapidly, the blood loss already taking him. “....Get him…..then...be…...happy…..toge---”

Ron’s final word was cut off as one last breath slipped from his mouth. Then, his head rolled backwards before rotating towards Harry so that his eyes, still open, stared at Harry.

“No,” Harry sobbed softly as he pulled Ron’s still body up to him, holding him close, embracing the first friend that he had ever made for the last time. Hermione wrapped her arms around the both of them, her own sobs shaking Harry’s body.

Ron Weasley was dead. He was dead and, no matter what Ron said, Harry knew that it was his fault.


	22. The Power of Family

It took Harry and Hermione nearly an hour to get Ron and Neville’s bodies out of the Forest, largely because neither of them seemed to possess the ability to consistently cast magic at the moment. The few times that Harry attempted to levitate Ron’s body, he found that he couldn’t get Ron more than a few inches off the ground before he would lose control and be forced to lower Ron back to the ground.

That meant that there was only one way out: they had to carry them. Neither of them even considered leaving them behind for someone else to bring out. They would do it themselves or they wouldn’t leave the Forest at all. Eventually, Hermione was able to cast a weak Featherlight Charm that made it easier to put Neville on her back.

But Harry refused to cast any magic on Ron. Instead, he reached down and scooped him off the ground, carrying him out of the Forest the same way that Hagrid had carried him out ten years earlier.

When they reached the line of Aurors, Harry was approached by Elaina, who looked as if she was ready to say something. Then she saw Ron in Harry’s arms and Neville in Hermione’s. One of the Aurors stepped forward and asked if they wanted help.

Neither accepted any.

Roughly an hour after Ron and Neville took their last breath, Harry and Hermione, exhausted and barely able to walk, finally cleared the trees where, to Harry’s surprise, they were surrounded by the professors of Hogwarts. Harry’s head swam, but he knew that he had told Minerva that the staff should return to the school.

Apparently, she had not heeded his request.

She stood in front of the pack of Professors, a look of horror on her face as Harry and Hermione, each of them covered in blood, cleared the edge of the forest and made their way towards them. Beside her stood Hagrid, who took a step forward the moment they cleared the woods before sprinting towards them.

“Harry, are they…” he said roughly.

Harry found that no words would come. Instead, he shook his head and collapsed to the ground, Ron still in his arms. Having carried Ron for the better part of an hour, he could no longer go on, but he refused to let Ron go.

He knew that the moment he did, he might never see his friend again.

Hermione set Neville down on the ground next to Harry, breathing heavily as she did so. Even with the spell, Neville was significantly larger than Hermione. Still, there had been no question that Harry was going to bring Ron out of the Forest.

“Weasleys,” Harry said as McGonagall approached, kneeling down next to Harry despite her advanced age.

“We’ll send for them,” McGonagall said, fighting to remain composed and largely failing. “You need to get cleaned up.”

“Luna, Augusta...I need to tell them,” Harry muttered. “Gotta be me.”

“You need to get cleaned up first,” McGonagall replied. “And you need to let him go.”

“Can’t,” Harry said. “I can’t….it’s….my fault.”

Harry broke down again and pulled Ron towards him, squeezing him tightly and praying for some kind of miracle that would bring Ron back to him. Harry knew that it was wishful thinking, but Harry had survived the Killing Curse twice. If there ever was a time that Harry really, truly needed a miracle, it was now.

Hermione put her head on Harry’s shoulder and covered his hand with hers.

“You need to let him go, Harry,” she whispered in his ear. “We have to tell the Weasleys before they find out from someone else.”

“I know.”

“Then you have to put him down,” Hermione said softly. “You know more than any of us. You know you’ll see him again.”

Would he? Hermione was right. Harry knew more about the world beyond than anyone else. He knew that there was something there, some place where the dead went when they were done with this world. But was it a place where the dead congregated? Would he see Ron and his parents again?

Or would he rest alone in the darkness, only called upon when the living asked?

“Let him go,” Hermione said, taking Harry’s hands and guiding Ron to the ground. In the moment just before Harry would have fallen on top of Ron, he let go, letting Ron gently drift to the ground next to where Neville.

Immediately, Harry seemed to lose sense of the world around him. He felt someone pull him to his feet and drag him towards the castle. He heard Hermione’s voice and he was certain that he heard McGonagall’s. At some point, he was thrown in one of the showers at the Quidditch Pitch and a new pair of clothes were provided for him to change into.

It could have been ten minutes later or it could have been several hours when Harry finally found himself in the Headmaster’s Office with McGonagall and Hermione. Sometime while Harry and Hermione had been getting cleaned up, McGonagall had called for all of the relevant parties to meet in her office. She had indicated that it was an emergency and that nothing was of a higher priority.

Within less than ten minutes, all of the adult members of the Weasley family, Gabrielle Delacour, Luna Lovegood, and Augusta Longbottom had flooded McGonagall’s office, each of them asking dozens of questions about why they had been called. Harry and Hermione remained in the upper section of the room, just out of sight of the families until they were all present.

Just before George and Angelina walked in, Hermione put her head on Harry’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do,” Harry replied. He was leaning on the railing, barely able to stand on his own. Still, he would do this.

He would do it if it killed him.

Once George and Angelina were settled, McGonagall announced that they would begin in a moment before retrieving Harry and Hermione. The moment that they walked into the room and saw the two of them, the room went silent.

They were seated in a circle around McGonagall’s desk, which Harry leaned against for support. Every eye in the room was fixed on Harry, who felt as if he was going to throw up.

Eventually, George piped up.

“Mate, you’re scaring us. What the hell is going on?”

Harry finally looked up at the families gathered, tears streaming down his face. The casual smile that had been on George’s face disappeared.

Then, Harry spoke. His voice was rough and weak and he was barely able to push through his tears.

Yet no one struggled to hear him.

“Ron and Neville were killed this evening in the Forbidden Forest.”

The room couldn’t have been quieter. Harry looked at Arthur and Molly, who stared at him in disbelief.

“You all know enough about Legion to know that it threatened my family. Today, Legion abducted Neville from his office. When McGonagall discovered that he missed a class, she sent a message to his house. Luna received the message just as Susan Finch-Fletchley came over for lunch. When they got the message, they called me.”

“I spent the last several hours organizing a hunt for Neville. Eventually, we found this in his office,” Harry said, holding up the Resurrection Stone. “All you need to know is that I had this on me when I presented myself to Voldemort in the Forest. I dropped it there. It was the clue that told us where to find Neville. I knew that Hermione and Ron would not let me go alone, so the three of us lied to McGonagall and the Aurors, telling them that Legion left a letter asking for only the three of us to go into the Forest.”

“When we arrived, Neville was tied to a tree and it was evident that he had been tortured. Legion enjoys playing games with its prey. So, it offered me the choice: if I killed Neville, the three of us would walk free. If I refused, it would kill Hermione and Ron. I banked on the thought that it wouldn’t want its game with me to be over so soon, so I called its bluff. I refused to kill Neville.”

Harry suddenly felt his knees lose any sense of structure and before he knew what happened, he dropped to the floor, his head snapping back against the desk. Hermione dropped to the floor and attempted to bring Harry back to his feet, but Harry refused.

He couldn’t stand anymore. He didn’t have the strength for it. But he did have the strength to finish the story.

“I refused to kill Neville,” Harry repeated. “In response, Legion threatened to kill Hermione if I didn’t kill him. Again, I refused. But, Neville, Neville was so brave. He told me to do it. He told me to make the choice. He was ready to give himself up to save Hermione.”

Harry looked at Luna and at Augusta, who sat side-by-side, Luna holding Augusta’s hands in her lap. More than anything, he wanted them to know just how strong Neville had been when Harry had not.

“I couldn’t do it,” Harry admitted. “When I lowered my wand, Neville grabbed it and tried to Stun Legion. Unfortunately, he missed. In his anger, Legion removed Neville’s left arm and then froze him in position. He was likely dead within moments.”

Luna and August sobbed silently in their seats as Harry turned back to Arthur and Molly, both of whom stared at Harry in fear, knowing that the next part of the story would be for them.

“Legion gave me a choice: Ron or Hermione. Again, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t decide. Of course, each of them tried to say that I should kill them. But Ron, I think he knew that we weren’t all getting out of there alive. He was so calm, so fucking brave. He told me to do it. He told me that he was alright with it and that he believed that it was his turn to make the sacrifice instead of me.”

Harry chuckled through his sobs.

“Ron gave up having a normal life the moment that he became my friend. He sacrificed his safety time and time again. He lost Fred. Now, he’s talking about making the sacrifice, like he had never done that before,” Harry scoffed. “Despite his request, I...couldn’t decide. I couldn’t make that choice.”

“Legion saw that and it knew. It knew that I would never make the choice, so it made it for me. It tried to kill Hermione.”

Harry looked up at Arthur and Molly, who were holding each other up.

“He was so brave. I couldn’t get there in time, but he could. He jumped in front of the spell and it killed him.”

“I’m alive because of him,” Hermione whispered. “He didn’t know what Legion was going to hit me with, but it didn’t matter. He put himself between Legion and I anyway.”

When they finished their story, the room was silent other than the few strangled sobs that escaped the lips of everyone in the room. Harry couldn’t bear to look at any of them. They would blame him and they would be right to do so. If Harry hadn’t called Ron into help, Ron would never have been in that forest. He would be at home, safe and sound, with his new wife-to-be.

Speaking of Gabrielle, as the rest of the family sat in silence, all of them trying to collect their thoughts, Gabrielle approached Harry, standing over where he sat on the floor, her hands trembling. Harry thought that she was going to curse him. He wouldn’t have stopped her if she wanted to.

Then, she reached a hand down for Harry. Confused, Harry looked up to see the usual no-nonsense look on Gabrielle’s face. Harry took her hand and Gabrielle placed her other hand under Harry’s arm, helping him to his feet.

Once Harry was on his feet, Gabrielle held onto him by his upper arms, giving him just enough stability to stay on his feet.

“Did he suffer?” Gabrielle asked stoically.

“No,” Harry replied. “He was gone in less than a minute.”

“Where is his body?”

Harry didn’t know the answer to that question. Thankfully, McGonagall had been standing in the far corner of the room.

“The bodies have been cleaned by the Aurors and remain in the castle in one of the empty classrooms in the dungeons. I can take you to see them whenever you like, Miss Delacour.”

“Thank you,” Gabrielle said, turning back to Harry. “Did you bring him back?”

Harry nodded. Then, Gabrielle took her hands and wrapped them around Harry’s shoulders, pulling him into her warm embrace. Gabrielle was not one to show affection to others and especially not to Harry. Still, she held onto Harry tight, saying more with a hug than she ever could have said with words.

Then, one by one, the members of the Weasley family lined up behind Gabrielle, each of them taking a turn embracing both Harry and Hermione. At the end of the line stood Arthur and Molly. When it was her turn, Molly stepped forward and placed a hand on either side of Harry’s face before leaning forward and kissing his forehead. 

She looked Harry directly in the eye when she spoke.

“Thank you, Harry. Thank you for bringing back my boy.”

Over the next two days, Harry spent almost all of his time at the Ministry, answering questions from his other Aurors to absolve any potential chance that Harry had done this himself. Hermione was in the interrogation room next to him. After leaving Hogwarts that night, they spent nearly fourteen hours in those rooms, making sure that their stories aligned and that there was no chance that this had been their doing.

Thankfully, their stories did align and by the next morning, they were finally released. Harry and Hermione went home and slept for two hours before attempting to return to the Ministry of Magic where they were stopped by Kingsley Shacklebolt. He personally ordered them to take three days off, returning to work on Tuesday. When they tried to protest, Kingsley threatened to suspend both of them again if they did not agree to his request.

Ultimately, it didn’t matter. They were back in the Ministry the next day for the state funeral that would be held for both Ron and Neville as both of them were Order of Merlin award winners from their actions during the war. Both Hermione and Harry were expected to speak and neither did so. There were too many words to say for their fallen friend and all of them were too personal.

That Saturday evening, the members of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore’s Army gathered for a private ceremony at The Burrow. The Burrow sat on acres of land and at the very back of that property was a hill with a single willow tree on it. Harry had only been that far back roughly ten years earlier when they had buried Fred. Now, they would return to bury his brother next to him.

Earlier that morning, Harry and Hermione had attended a private ceremony for Neville at the Longbottom House, the Longbottom ancestral home and home of his grandmother, Augusta Longbottom. The gathering was small, but it allowed Harry to see a side of Neville that he never met. His extended family talked about how much of a jokester he had become. According to Neville himself, he had been influenced by the Weasley twins and adopted some of their methods at family gatherings.

His Uncle Arnold talked about how he became a source of pride for the whole family after the war. The one that no one had expected much out of had become the most famous Longbottom in history. 

Harry and Neville had drifted away from each other as time had passed. Neville spent his time at Hogwarts and Harry at the Ministry. They often went weeks without speaking to each other and months without seeing each other. But, they were brothers in arms, just like the rest of the Order or Dumbledore’s Army. They could go years without seeing each other and still greet the other like an old friend.

Harry thought he had known Neville. Now, he was seeing that he didn’t know Neville at all. At least not the man that Neville had grown into. Harry would never really get to know that man. Neither would anyone else.

Just as the ceremony ended, Luna approached Harry and Hermione. As expected, Luna bucked at any sense of conventional attire. Instead of the black robes that everyone else wore, Luna wore a light blue dress, her hair done up with flowers.

Lilies.

How appropriate, Harry thought to himself.

“I’m glad you came,” Luna said. Although her attire may have been unconventional, she looked every bit the grieving widow.

“We’re so sorry,” Hermione replied, grasping Luna tightly around the shoulder as she embraced Luna. 

“We all know that you did everything you could,” Luna said. “I just...I just wish that things had turned out differently.”

Harry couldn’t look at her. Instead, his eyes were fixed on the top of his shoes. Over the last few days, Harry had felt an overwhelming number of emotions, but none of them more so than shame. Shame at his inability to act, shame for his failure to protect his friends, shame because he had nothing to say to defend himself other than to repeatedly express his apologies.

“Harry, can I talk to you in private for a moment?” Luna said. Despite his reticence, Harry looked up and saw that Luna was smiling at him, if in the way that those who are in mourning smile at those they love.

“Of course,” Harry said, handing his jacket over to Hermione and following Luna away from the cemetery towards a bench in the rose garden adjacent to it. Luna sat on the bench and Harry followed her lead, taking a seat next to her.

“Neville was always better at expressing himself than I was,” Luna replied. “Of course, I’m a bit odd so that’s likely part of it.”

Harry didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing. Instead, he simply stared off into the distance where the mourners were finally heading their separate ways.

“There are a couple things that Neville would have wanted to tell you,” Luna said, turning to face him. “First, he would have known that you were going to blame yourself. Don’t.”

“But, Luna, Legion targeted me and---”

“And we all knew the risks, Harry,” Luna replied. “You explained them to us quite clearly. We knew that the safe houses weren’t perfect. We knew that there was still going to be a risk there. Hell, if he could break into the safe houses, he probably could have just as easily broken into Hogwarts.”

Harry couldn’t deny that Luna had a point. Still, that didn’t make him feel any better.

“Second, Neville would have said that he was honored to be on the list of people that you cared about,” Luna added. “We don’t see you that often anymore. It’s the nature of growing up, I guess. Even though it put him at risk, when you told him that he and I had been among those that Legion was targeting, Neville wasn’t upset. He was proud.”

“Why?”

“Because even among your friends, you cast a long shadow,” Luna said. “People want to be close to you. They want to know you. After twenty years, Neville and I are still among the people that you hold closest to your heart along with your best friend, your ex-girlfriend, although that one is a bit weird, even for me, your godson, your adopted parents, and the love of your life.”

“Being close to me puts you in danger,” Harry countered. “People close to me get hurt. They get killed for being my friend.”

“And they’re better for it,” Luna protested. “You still have a lot to do. The people that love you, love you for a reason. You are, after all that has happened to you, still an inspiration to those around you. You’ll be the kind of role model that my son will look up to.”

At first, Harry didn’t quite hear what Luna was saying. Then, as the words washed over him, their meaning became clear. Harry turned to Luna and looked down. Now that she mentioned it, it was quite clear that Luna Lovegood was pregnant.

“Merlin,” Harry whispered. “Did he know?”

“He did,” Luna said sadly. “He was so excited. He even said he was going to take a year away from teaching to stay at home so I could keep working.”

The tragedy of Neville Longbottom’s death had been great to begin with. But Harry hadn’t known anyone who might have been a better father than Neville. For him to have been so close to fatherhood only to have it stripped from him only magnified that tragedy even more.

“I….I’m so sorry, Luna.”

“Stop. Stop apologizing, Harry. I will raise my son and I will tell him about his father and what a wonderful,  _ wonderful  _ man he was. I will tell him that his father died as he lived: brave and bold. I’ll tell him that he should be proud to be named after one of the great heroes of Hogwarts.”

“Neville?”

“We had talked about it anyway, but it only seems right,” Luna said. “It will be a burden, naming him after someone that is so highly regarded within our community. But I hope that he’ll see it as an honor, a way of carrying on Neville’s spirit.”

“I’m sure he will,” Harry said warmly. “If you ever need any help---”

“Harry Potter, you’ve been a father for a month. Maybe get used to the idea yourself before offering assistance to others for a change.”

“Well, I was going to offer Hermione, but I suppose you’re right,” Harry said, causing Luna to chuckle softly. “I’m sure you’ll be a great mother.”

“And you’ll be a great father, Harry.”

That night at the Burrow, everyone stood in a circle around the spot where Ron had been interred. Gabrielle spoke first, welcoming everyone and thanking them for their attendance. She briefly spoke about Ron and their relationship. She spoke about how Fleur had attempted to dissuade her from dating Ron many times over the years to no avail. 

“Ron was so nervous on our first date that he spilled wine all down the front of his shirt,” she said with a laugh. While she never cried, you could tell just how deeply she felt Ron’s loss in how she spoke. Normally, Gabrielle spoke with confidence. Today, she spent much of her time looking off into the distance, clearly struggling just to formulate the next sentence.

“When he tried to fix it, he accidentally set his shirt on fire,” Gabrielle said, garnering her own set of laughs from those in attendance. “We spent our first night together in St. Mungo’s that night as the Healers worked on healing his burns. It was the best first date I had ever had. I had hoped it would be the last.”

When Gabrielle was finished speaking, each of the Weasleys took a moment to speak, each of them telling a different story about Ron. Some were funny, some were serious, but all of them spoke to Ron’s true character. 

After the Weasleys finished, Hermione stood up and spoke briefly about Ron. It was hard listening to her talk. Her story meandered from point to point, never quite getting to what she truly wanted to say. In the end, she stopped trying to tell her story and just spoke directly to Ron.

“You were the glue that kept us together, Ronald,” she cried. “Without you, there’s so much we wouldn’t have been able to accomplish. But more than that, our lives would have been a darker, sadder place. Every day, we’ll have to live with knowing that we have to move on without you. I love you, Ron, and I hope that, wherever you are, you are at peace.”

When Gabrielle and Molly had asked Harry to speak last, Harry had pushed back. He didn’t feel as if he deserved an opportunity to speak, let alone be the person whose thoughts would be the one that everyone was left with. When they told Harry that the Weasleys had voted and unanimously agreed that Harry should speak last, he was dumbfounded. Still, he agreed to speak.

Harry walked from his place at the back of the crowd, stopping just in front of the marker.

_ Ronald Bilius Weasley _ _   
_ _ March 1, 1980-November 7, 2008 _

_ “Bravery is not a quality of the body. It is of the soul.” _

“Ron wasn’t the first wizard that I met on my eleventh birthday, when I was reintroduced to the wizarding world. That distinction belongs to Hagrid. Ron wasn’t even the first wizard of my own age that I spoke to. That was Draco Malfoy, although I didn’t know it at the time.”

Harry turned away from the grave and finally spoke to the assembled.

“But he was the first person that I met that didn’t treat me like I was different. For the previous ten years, the name Harry Potter may have been special in this world, but in mine, that name only brought misery. I was a Potter and therefore I was lesser. Less than my family, less than others, a lesser being in all manner of the word.”

“So you can imagine how surprised I was when I learned that not only was magic real, but that I was a wizard. And not just any wizard, I was either the first, second, or third most famous wizard in all of England, depending on how you ranked me, Dumbledore, and Riddle. Hagrid treated me fine, but he knew who I was from the beginning. Malfoy didn’t treat anyone well at the time, not even his own mother.”

“But from the very time I met you, you all treated me like family. Molly helped me get through to Platform 9 and ¾. Ron helped me find a carriage. All of this before they even knew who I was. When Ron did find out my name, he was stunned for just a moment. Then, he asked to see my scar and…that was it. From then on, we talked about Hogwarts and his family and what we could expect once we got to school.”

“My greatest fear when I started at Hogwarts was that the nature of my celebrity would isolate me. I had already seen how adults treated me when I was introduced to them in Diagon Alley. Here I was, eleven-years-old, I don’t even have a wand, and these people are falling over themselves to introduce themselves to me. Would children be the same? Would the other kids like me? Would everyone want to be my friend? Would no one?”

Harry chuckled softly at the thought.

“The truth was somewhere in between. Some hated me for who I was. Others worshipped me. But for a small group of people, I was just Harry. That was all I could have asked for. By Halloween of my first year, I befriended the two people who would change my life, the two people who were there for me whenever I needed it most.”

“That’s not to say that Ron and I didn’t have our ups and downs,” Harry said, which got a small laugh. “Ron thought I put my name in the Goblet of Fire. We didn’t talk for weeks. Under the influence of Riddle’s Horcrux, Ron left Hermione and I during our Horcrux Hunt. More recently, Hermione and I hid a great many things from Ron for far too long.”

“When Ron found out about Hermione and I, my greatest fears came true. He was pissed and rightfully so. Hermione and I together had made a series of terrible mistakes, ones that a lesser person would have never forgiven. But, he did. It didn’t happen overnight, but slowly, after proving ourselves trustworthy again, we were slowly starting to put the pieces back together.”

“Now, we’ll never get to know what the future looks like. But, I can say this: Ron Weasley was one of the bravest men I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing. He was often afraid as we all were, but he never let that fear stop him. He pressed on, no matter what it cost him personally, to be there for me. That’s something that I can never, ever repay. All I can do now is live my life with the intention of honoring the memory of my best friend and brother.”

Harry turned back to Ron’s grave. Then, he set his hand on top of it and kneeled down and spoke so that only Ron could hear him.

“And I’m going to take that bastard down for killing you.”

After Harry finished, the family retreated back to The Burrow for a home cooked meal and some family time. Harry expected to feel strange being around the Weasleys. He expected at least one of them to blame him and Hermione for Ron’s death.

Instead, just like they had done for years, they offered him a plate and a seat at their table. Harry had long considered the Weasleys to be his family. Since his twelfth birthday, Hogwarts was the only place that Harry had spent more time than at the Burrow. This was as much his home as any other place.

Hell, Molly had already offered Hermione and Harry a place to stay for the night. Unfortunately, the only room with privacy was Ron’s old room.

Harry and Hermione elected to sleep in the living room instead.

Late that night, well after everyone had already gone to bed, Harry lay awake. He hadn’t slept for more than a few hours since The Forest and he doubted that he would do so again until Legion was taken care of. Thankfully, Hermione had finally managed to sleep after two nights of nightmares.

Of course, the rather large bottle of wine that she and Fleur had shared during dinner likely had something to do with that.

After hours of staring at the ceiling, Harry couldn’t stand sitting still any longer. He got up and wrote a note to Hermione that he placed the table next to her, telling her that he had gone for a walk. Then, he walked out the back door and started down the trail that led to the back half of the property that The Burrow sat on.

Harry hadn’t walked with any particular direction, but he shouldn’t have been surprised that he ultimately ended up at Ron’s grave. Harry considered the stone for a moment before he sat, leaning up against the stone as if Ron himself were holding him up. While Harry and Ron had never been particularly affectionate with each other, all Harry wanted was for Ron to sit up and hug him and tell him that everything was going to be alright.

Harry knew, somewhere deep inside of him, that everything would likely be alright in the end, if they could get through Legion, that was. But for the moment, every breath that Harry took hurt and every time that he even thought Ron’s name felt like the life was being squeezed out of him.

“Oh good, it’s you.”

Harry was so surprised to hear someone else’s voice that he drew his wand. Turning around, he held his wand to see Ginny walking towards him.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” Harry asked, breathing heavily as a result of her sudden appearance.

“I could ask the same to you, but I imagine the answer is going to be pretty much the same,” Ginny said as she walked to the other side of the stone and sat next to where Harry had been seated. Harry replaced his wand in its holster and then sat next to her.

Harry didn’t know how long they sat the two of them, just watching the earliest light from the sun cresting over the horizon. Even when they were silent, Harry was glad that he wasn’t alone. More importantly, he was glad that it was a Weasley out here with him. While he would always be glad to have Hermione at his side, there was something different about being accepted by one of the family right now.

Just as the sun became visible in the distance, Ginny turned to Harry.

“So, when are we meeting next?”

“Soon,” Harry said firmly. “Probably tomorrow.”

“Why wait?”

“I wanted everyone to have enough time to grieve.”

“And you’re going to be done grieving by tomorrow?” Ginny asked. Harry turned to her and saw that she was staring at him. You could always count on Ginny Weasley to say exactly what was on her mind.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You meant that you were going to honor some sort of period of mourning before jumping back into things.”

“Exactly.”

“Yeah, fuck that,” Ginny snapped. “Fuck waiting, Harry. This thing, this monster killed my brother. It killed Ron. It killed Neville. It tried to kill Teddy and it nearly killed you. If you told me that we were meeting now, I would go now.”

“Not even going to jump in the shower?” Harry asked.

“Not a chance,” Ginny shot back. “Don’t have time.”

“Good to know,” Harry said as he stood up and began pacing. “Honestly, we’re at an impasse. We’ve got The Arch figured out, but we’re nowhere close on the ritual.”

“Then pull all of us in,” Ginny said, standing as if she were ready to fight that moment. Of course, knowing Ginny Weasley, she was. “I’m not going back to the Harpies until we figure this out. I’m certain that the rest of us feel the same way. Sure, it seemed like something that we could do in our spare time and to be honest, we were pretty successful at fixing the Arch.”

“But it is different now, Harry. Ron is dead. Neville is dead. I’m never going to get to see my brother again. Neville will never meet his son. We’re done acting like things are normal, because for the second time in my life, I’ve got to grapple with the fact that things will never be normal again.”

“Ginny, you know that I tried---”

Before Harry could finish what he wanted to say, Ginny cut him off.

“Save it, Harry. We both know that you did what you could. I know you. You are many things, but you would have never condemned any of them to die. It’s not who you are. None of us blame you. You were put in an impossible position and things…..well, things got bad.”

Ginny stepped forward so that she was only inches from Harry. She spoke in a soft, sharp tone that gave Harry no choice but to listen to her.

“Do you blame yourself, Harry?”

“Of course. Of course, I do,” Harry replied. 

“Good,” Ginny growled.

“What?” Harry uttered in surprise.

“I’m glad that you blame yourself. How does that blame make you feel, Harry?”

Harry was at a loss for words. He opened his mouth several times to speak, but had no idea what he wanted to say.

Ginny threw her hands forward and shoved Harry in the chest.

“How does that make you feel, Harry?” Ginny bellowed, the sound of her voice scaring away birds in the tree near them.

“It makes me angry!” Harry growled. “It makes me feel like my insides are on fire. I stood there, helpless, as he killed two of my friends! How do you think I feel?”

“You feel angry?” Ginny asked.

“Yes!”

“Good,” Ginny replied with satisfaction. “We’ve seen Harry Potter at his best. Ten years ago at The Battle of Hogwarts, we all saw you. We saw you stand in defiance of the greatest terror our world had ever known. But Legion doesn’t need Harry Potter at his best.”

“What do you mean?” Harry questioned.

“We need Harry Potter at his worst,” Ginny explained. “We need a Harry Potter willing to win at all costs. We need a Harry Potter who is going to play dirty. We need a Harry Potter who is going to go for the kill.”

Suddenly, Ginny reached forward and grabbed his shirt, jerking it and Harry back towards her so that Harry was only inches away from her face.

“We need you to kill it, Harry. Whether you kill it or trap it in that Arch, I do not care. But now is not the time for half measures. Now is not the time for waffling. That thing is pure evil and it needs to be put down. Do you think you can do that?”

Harry hadn’t wanted to kill Voldemort. He had long refused to kill anyone. Harry brought in dozens of Death Eaters after the war and hadn’t used the Killing Curse one time. The only time he had ever used it was on Legion a few weeks earlier when it had abducted Teddy.

In the end, if they were able to reverse the ritual, if Legion was restored to a normal man, could he really do the unthinkable? Could he take a life? But then Harry thought about Teddy, almost drained of all life. He thought of Neville, bleeding out and frozen, unable to help himself. He thought of Ron, throwing himself in front of Hermione.

And he knew.

This was different. Whatever Legion had been, he wasn’t a man any longer. For too long, Harry had treated Legion as if he was still human, as if it abided by the same rules as Harry.

No more.

“I can do that,” Harry said firmly. “He’ll go down permanently.”

Ginny smiled sadly and then let Harry go, allowing him to stand up once more.

“Good. Now, are you ready to go to work?”

“You bet.”

Less than four hours later, the entirety of the Weasley family, Elaina Andrews, Draco Malfoy, and Luna Lovegood joined Harry and Hermione at Safe House Four. Everyone, even those that managed to sleep, were tired, but no one refused the call to arms. They had waited long enough. It was time to act.

Harry waited until everyone had taken their seats before walking into the room. He made a beeline for the head of the table, Hermione just on his heels. When he reached the end of the table, he stopped and immediately addressed the room.

“I know we’re tired. I know we’re grieving. But we’ve waited far too long to band together and take this monster down. That is my fault and...people have died as a result. But, no more. From now on, my sole attention goes to undoing the ritual that created Legion and then stuffing it back in its cage where it belongs.”

Harry looked down to the other end of the table where Ginny sat. She smiled at him, encouraged that her message from earlier that morning had gotten through to him.

“I need all of you. I need you to be willing to walk away from every other responsibility in your life and help me stop Legion. The Auror Office will be working to locate Legion around the clock, but when the time comes, the people that stop Legion will be in this room. Right now, I need to know just one thing: are you with me?”

Harry looked down each row of people, first to his left and then to his right. He knew that this was a big ask. For some, Ron’s death would be the end of the line. They wouldn’t (and shouldn’t) trust Harry to act in this moment. He couldn’t blame them and yet, he still needed their help.

He needed all of them more than he had ever needed them before.

Finally, from his place towards the opposite end of the table, Arthur Weasley stood. Arthur was one of the most powerful men in the country. But more importantly, he was the moral compass for the Weasleys. Whatever he said would likely influence the decision of most of the room.

“Harry, if I have to quit my job to stop this thing, then that’s what I’ll do. That’s what we’ll all do. We’re with you to the very end. Ron wouldn’t want it any other way.”

One by one, the rest of the Weasleys stood and joined Arthur, each of them silently nodding their affirmation. As the Weasleys stood so too did Luna, Draco, and Elaina, each of whom said nothing but joined in nonetheless.

Soon enough, everyone in the room was standing, the intentions clearly stated. They were going to war with Legion and this time, they were all looking to Harry.

Harry turned to Hermione, who stood next to him.

“You in?”

“I’d follow you anywhere,” Hermione whispered, taking his hand in hers. She squeezed his hand and held on tight.

“Good,” Harry said before turning back to the rest of the room. “Now, we have a monster to kill.”


	23. Theoretical Magic

In just two hours, Harry and the others turned Safe House Four into a fully functioning research station. Far from her response to Harry’s previous request, McGonagall allowed Harry and Hermione to take anything from the Restricted Section that even vaguely touched on rituals and magical absorption. The former archives of the Black Library, which had been moved to the Ministry, were restored by teams of Aurors who spent nearly three hours bringing back full of dozens of books to the research room, where shelves had been built to surround the room.

Finally, Malfoy brought the contents of the Malfoy Family Library to Safe House Four, having shrunk them so that they fit in his pocket.

The process was simple. Everyone would take a book and begin reading. Anytime they saw any sort of reference to ritual magic or absorbing the magic of others, they marked it down. When they were finished with the notes, they turned the book and their notes into Hermione or Malfoy, who would go through the book and see if the information was worth spending time on.

If they did, then it was compiled and at the end of the day, Harry, Hermione, and Malfoy sat down and went through the notes, seeing if they could make sense of any of it. For nearly a week they did this and it had gotten them almost nowhere. They certainly had a better understanding of how ritual magic worked, but there was nothing to be found on absorbing the magic of others and especially nothing on how that could be used to transform yourself into something like what Legion had become.

In the meantime, Harry had been working from Safe House Four with the Aurors. Elaina remained at the Ministry, communicating with Harry hourly, and executing his orders from there. Since the incident in the Forest, the Aurors had been pulled off every other case onto this one. Teams of Aurors scoured the country, Apparating from point to point in a grid that Elaina had designed. This would allow them to scan the country for Legion. Eventually, they would nail down where Legion was hiding.

Harry could only hope that they would figure out a way to reverse the ritual before then.

It was late one evening when Harry found himself on the balcony on the second floor that overlooked the square in front of Grimmauld Place. Below where he sat, a few Muggles, most of them coming home for work, walked down the street in silence. Other than that, the night was still. The air was still and even the sounds of the city seemed subdued for the moment.

It had been a rough couple of days. While the work had kept his mind busy, his thoughts still returned to Ron and Neville in the evenings. He had barely slept since the services, both because he was working almost non-stop and because when he laid down, all he saw was the look on Ron’s face when Legion’s curse hit him.

“Harry?”

Considering how late it was, Harry was surprised that anyone else was up. But when he turned around and saw that it was Teddy, he was even more surprised. Arthur and Molly had moved into Safe House Four with Teddy the day after Ron’s funeral. They argued that there was no way they could protect Teddy at The Burrow.

At least here, they would have reinforcements if it came down to it.

“Teddy, what are you doing up?” Harry asked.

“I….”

Teddy hesitated and then suddenly started crying. Immediately, Harry jumped from his chair and raced to Teddy, kneeling down in front of him and wrapping his arms around Teddy. Teddy responded by wrapping his own arms around Harry’s neck and sobbing into Harry’s shirt. Harry held onto Teddy until his crying started to slow down. Then, he scooped up the boy and returned to his seat, sitting Teddy in his lap.

“What’s the matter?” Harry asked as Teddy wiped the tears from his eyes. “Bad dream?”

Teddy nodded sadly.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Teddy looked at Harry for a moment and then shook his head. Instead of speaking, he simply leaned down against Harry’s chest. Harry wrapped his arms around Teddy, squeezing him tight to make him feel as safe as Harry could.

A few minutes later, Teddy spoke up again.

“I miss Grandma,” Teddy muttered. To be honest, Harry wasn’t certain that Teddy was even talking to him, but he was going to try to talk to him anyway.

“I’m sure you do,” Harry whispered. “I miss her too. Was there anything special that she did when you had a bad dream?”

“No, not really,” Teddy replied. “I just miss her.”

Harry and Teddy sat in silence. Within just a few minutes, Harry could tell that Teddy had fallen asleep. However, Harry refused to move until he knew that Teddy was well and truly asleep. So, he sat and listened to Teddy’s breathing and felt his heart beat against Harry’s chest. Over the last few weeks since Andromeda’s death, Harry hadn’t been able to spend as much time with Teddy as he would have liked.

But this time, this moment right here, reminded Harry just what he was fighting to protect. If Legion got through Harry, there was no doubt in Harry’s mind that Legion would come after the rest of the world at large, starting with those closely associated with Harry. Harry wasn’t arrogant enough to believe that he was the only one capable of stopping Legion.

But he was one of the few. The odds decreased drastically if Harry wasn’t the one to stop him.

The next thing Harry knew, the sun was shining in his face and he was being poked by someone else. Harry blinked his eyes open, having clearly fallen asleep in his chair. Somehow, Teddy had slept the rest of the night in his arms. It couldn’t have been particularly comfortable for either of them, but Harry guessed that Teddy had needed Harry last night just as much as Harry had needed him.

Harry looked up to see Hermione smiling down at the two of them.

“Sleep well?” Hermione whispered.

“Well, I slept, so by that metric, yes,” Harry replied. “Is everyone working?”

“They started two hours ago,” Hermione said with a smirk. “It’s nearly eleven.”

Harry had never been one to sleep in much and certainly not until eleven. Harry moved to get up before remembering that he still had a ten-year-old asleep in his lap.

“Relax. You’ve had a long couple of days. You needed the rest.”

“Everyone has had a long couple of days. No one else slept until eleven. What makes me any different from them?” Harry asked.

“Because you’re you, Harry,” Hermione smirked. “You do need to get up though. Abbi tried to use your mirror about twenty minutes ago.”

“Did you respond?” 

“No. I just saw her picture on it.”

Harry checked his watch for the date, November 16, 2008. Immediately, Harry looked down at Teddy and shook him gently.

“Teddy, it’s time to wake up.”

At first, Teddy didn’t move so Harry shook him again. This time, Teddy stirred.

“Grandma?”

Harry’s heart fell. He knew what it was like to wake up expecting to see someone who was no longer there. It was the worst feeling in the world.

“No, Teddy, it’s Harry,” Harry replied sadly. “We need to get up.”

“Harry, what’s the rush?” Hermione asked.

“Today is an even numbered day. That means that Abbi was on the search team.”

Hermione instantly understood Harry’s meaning.

“She may have found it?”

“She may have found it,” Harry repeated as Teddy slowly sat up. Once Teddy was upright, Harry lifted Teddy and sat him on the chair next to him.

“Teddy, I have to go out for a little while. You’ll be alright here with Hermione and the Weasleys.”

“Is everything okay?” Teddy asked nervously.

“Everything is just fine. In fact, things are great and they’re only going to get better,” Harry said with a smile. “Now, why don’t you go take a shower?”

“Once you're done with that, I can make you some pancakes,” Hermione said excitedly. Teddy immediately looked up at Hermione and then back to Harry, a nervous look on his face.

“I think I’ll have Mrs. Weasley make me something,” Teddy said uneasily.

“Hey, you’re going to have to get used to Hermione’s cooking,” Harry replied, although he couldn’t help but smile. 

“Is she moving in with you?” Teddy asked.

“You know, we haven’t quite thought that far ahead,” Harry admitted. “Once all this is over, we’ll figure that out. Is that alright with you?”

“As long as I can use Hermione’s library, that’s fine with me!” Teddy said as he raced off to take a shower. Harry chuckled as the young man ran away, finding amusement in both Teddy and Hermione’s reaction to him.

“I think he and I will get along just fine,” Hermione said with a smile. “I mean, I have no experience being a mother, but we’ll figure it out.”

“You aren’t the only one lacking experience in that arena. We’ll both need to figure some things out, but I have confidence in us,” Harry said, kissing Hermione softly on the cheek. “Now, I’ve got to see if Abbi found something for us.”

Harry raced to the other bathroom in the house and quickly showered before finding his magic mirror. When Abbi’s face appeared on the other side of the line, he saw that she was surrounded by trees and appeared to be quite nervous, looking left and right.

“Abbi?”

“I think we found him,” Abbi said, her voice a rough whisper. “From the moment we landed here, the sensor has been going off.”

“Where are you?” Harry asked.

“Grid marker D24, somewhere in north Ireland,” Abbi said, referencing the grid sheet that Elaina had drawn up to coordinate the Aurors’ effort to search the country for Legion. “We’ve activated the Portkey feature on your mirror so you can use that to Apparate directly to us.”

“Great,” Harry said as he gathered his things. Once he secured his wrist holster, Harry picked up the mirror and turned on the spot, landing in the middle of a forest. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was a team of three Aurors led by Abbi Edison.

“Where is he?” Harry asked once he had gotten his bearing.

“There’s a house about a mile that way,” Abbi replied. “We’ll have a bit of a hike to get close enough to see it.”

“Why did you have me Apparate so far away from the house?”

“Because we didn’t want him to be able to sense us. Based on what you’ve told us, Legion has abilities that we can’t even truly comprehend. Plus, the sensor is….well, look at this.”

She pulled out a small dial with a single hand on it, like a broken clock. Then, she turned and pointed it at Harry.

“For reference sake, when I point this in your direction, it reads here.”

The dial shifted from its point at the top of the circle to a spot somewhere around where a seven would be on a normal clock.

“That’s high for most of us. I clocked in at a four and one other Auror marked down a five. There had been no sixes.”

“That’s great. Why does that matter?”

“You’ll see,” Abbi said as she turned in the direction that she believed Legion was hiding in. The dial dropped from roughly a seven to roughly a four.

“I don’t get it,” Harry said.

“Legion is a mile away and this is what that sensor is reading,” Abbi explained. “This dial works directionally and its range isn’t all that good. That’s why we’ve had so many grid points to hit.”

“So you are saying that from a mile away, it reads like an Auror is standing directly in front of you.”

“Exactly,” Abbi said as she stowed the sensor in her bag. “Now, let’s get moving.”

It took them nearly an hour to get from their location to the house. The terrain was rough and had clearly never been settled by civilization at any level. The trees were dense and the land uneven which made traversing the land nearly impossible. On more than one occasion, Harry nearly slipped, only to be caught by Abbi, who seemed far more at home in the woods than Harry did.

“You go hiking a lot, Edison?” Harry asked as they walked.

“Not too much anymore, sir,” Abbi replied. “It hasn’t exactly been easy to get time away from the office.”

“But before that?”

“My sister and I lived on a farm that had a small grove of trees in that back of it. The land was rough, but it was ours and I memorized every inch of it.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was,” Abbi said and it was clear that was all Abbi wanted to say about that.

It was another twenty minutes before anything of any real importance happened. Harry was walking along when he suddenly felt magic in the air around him.

“Wards?” Harry said.

“They surround the house,” Abbi confirmed. “At least three layers of them. However, the wards don’t prevent you from being able to see the house. Look there.”

Off in the distance, Harry could just make out a house, although house was hardly the word for it. It was essentially a small castle, complete with a single tower in the center. It was also ancient and clearly decaying as if someone hadn’t taken care of it in nearly a thousand years.

Of course, if this was Legion’s home, warded so that no one could infringe upon it, then it was likely that no one had been maintaining it for the last millenium.

“Three layers of wards? How long would that take to remove?”

“Almost no time at all if we had the right person, but it appears that one of the wards is an alarm of sorts.”

Harry should have expected that. Any attempt to manipulate the wards in any way without muttering the proper spell would destroy the wards but immediately set off alarms inside the house. The element of surprise would be out.

“However, the top layer of the ward doesn’t appear to be connected to that, only the one that prevents people from entering the property.”

“What does that ward do?”

“It prevents you from scanning the house for numbers, sir,” one of the Aurors behind Abbi piped up.

“Numbers?”

“With the ward in place, any magic that detects if someone is present or how many people are present would fail.”

“Now, you remember what the sensor looked like an hour ago, right?” Abbi asked as she pulled the sensor from her bag. “This is what it looks like now.”

She held the sensor up at eye level, facing the house. Instantly, the dial started moving. Only it didn’t stop at four this time. It didn’t stop at seven either. In fact, it didn’t even stop when it got to the top.

It just kept spinning. Five times it went around before it finally stopped where the three would be.

“We’ve scanned most of the Aurors. Like I said, most of us come out at around a five or a four, assuming we’re using the clock analogy. If you added all that up, it would equal roughly sixty-three or---”

“About twelve people,” Harry replied. “Legion is as powerful as twelve people put together.”

“That’s how it appears, sir.”

“Is it possible that the house is registering some of this magic? Or the wards?”

“It only reads magic from natural sources.”

Harry stood for a moment, staring at the castle on the hill. The magic of twelve people: for some reason, that sounded familiar. It’s almost as if there was a picture in his head, already drawn but smudged, so that he couldn’t see the whole image.

“Let’s remove that ward. Before we start panicking people, I want to know that Legion is alone in there.”

Immediately, the Auror that had spoken up stepped forward and got to work on removing that layer of the wards. Within seconds, Harry felt a twinge of magic in the air and he knew that the ward had been removed.

Harry drew his wand and raised it towards the house, casting a spell that would tell him how many people were in the house. Harry wasn’t surprised when he got his answer: one.

“One person,” Harry replied. “If that truly is Legion, and I can’t think of anything else it could possibly be, it is alone in there.”

“Would you like me to prepare the briefing room, sir?”

“No, Abbi, thank you,” Harry replied. “I’ll be taking this to the team first. I’m certain that I will enlist some Aurors to assist.”

Abbi looked wary of such an arrangement, but was smart enough not to protest. Instead, she nodded.

“Of course, sir.”

Harry took one more look at the castle. He knew that someday soon, he would be back here and he hoped that on that day, they had finally taken care of Legion once and for all.

Harry and the three Aurors took an hour to walk away from the wards before Apparating back to the Ministry. Harry quickly updated Kingsley on what was going on and then returned to Safe House Four.

At the end of the day, Harry called everyone back into the research room so that he could go over what his Aurors had discovered. In just a few minutes, Harry told them all about his journey through the woods. He told them about the castle that seemed like as likely a place as any for Legion to be hiding out. He told them about the massive power that Legion was registering on the sensor and he told them that Legion seemed to be alone.

When Harry finished, it was Percy, newly recruited to their project, that spoke up.

“That’s all well and good, Harry, but we don’t have a way to stop him yet, do we?”

“You’re not wrong,” Harry admitted. “That’s what we need to figure out. I know that everyone is tired. I know that you’ve all worked long days staring at books and that you want nothing more than to go back to your safe houses, make dinner, and go to bed.”

“But we need to figure this out,” Arthur said, finishing Harry’s thought for him.

“We do,” Harry admitted. “It seems that Legion takes time in between his attacks. The longer we let things wait, the more likely it is that Legion comes and takes one of you before we can even figure out how to reverse the ritual.”

“Harry?”

That voice came from the back of the room where Gabrielle Delacour sat. While she had come to assist, she had been unusually quiet. It was obvious to everyone that Ron’s death was weighing heavily on her. But unlike everyone else, she only had one person that was truly her family in the room and Fleur had been working around the clock.

“Yes, Gabrielle?”

“What if the ritual can’t be undone?” Gabrielle asked. “What if there’s nothing we can do to stop it?”

It was a legitimate question. It was just unfortunate that Harry didn’t have a good answer for her.

“Then, we’ll have to figure something out,” Harry replied. “We know there’s no way to get Legion to come back to the Ministry on its own. I suppose we would have to figure out a way to make the Arch mobile if that’s even possible.”

“But you don’t have a plan for that?”

She wasn’t exactly questioning Harry’s leadership, but she was skirting the line.

“I know that we want to plan for everything,” Harry replied calmly. “But if we plan for everything, we’ll end up planning for nothing. We’ll have contingencies in place for as much as we can, but we focus on one thing at a time right now. Are we all clear on that?”

Harry looked around the room and saw some surprised faces. Of course, Harry forgot that he was talking to his friends and family, not his Aurors.

“Look, just trust me, okay?” Harry added. “I know that I haven’t exactly been at my best recently, but that’s because we were playing from behind. If we can figure out this ritual, then we can turn the tide, make Legion react. If we can do that, we can take him.”

“You’re sure of that?” Charlie asked. 

“I’m  _ sure  _ of nothing,” Harry said honestly. “I’m sure that if we have all the pieces to the puzzle, then we have a chance, which is all we’ve ever needed. We only had a chance to beat Riddle and we made it happen. Together. That’s the only way this happens: together.”

Harry looked around the room. Everyone was nervous and doing a poor job of hiding it. He couldn’t blame them. An immortal god was hunting them and Harry was telling them that their best chance of defeating him was undoing a ritual that they hadn’t even discovered.

But no one walked away, no one spoke up again. They were all there, for better or worse, and they were going to see this thing through to the end, even if it killed them.

Hell, it could kill them all.

“Good. Now, the only way to get Legion back to the Arch is by reversing the ritual. So, let’s sit down and go over what we have. Maybe we’ll come up with something.”

Harry could tell that they were tired. He could tell that this was the last thing they wanted to do. But they knew that they had no choice. Nothing could wait, everything needed to be completed as quickly as possible.

And that meant sitting down and rehashing everything they had read in the last week.

“Now, Malfoy, what do you have for us?” Harry asked as he looked to the far end of the table where Malfoy sat opposite him.

Malfoy pulled a pile of notes out of his bag and set them in front of him.

“This is everything we have that even remotely relates to magical absorption or manipulation,” Malfoy explained. “Magical manipulation seems like the more likely candidate for this particular ritual.”

“What’s the difference?” George asked.

“It’s difficult to explain,” Malfoy said with just a hint of a sneer. While everyone appreciated the fact that Malfoy had been helping them, that didn’t make him everyone’s best friend. Harry knew that if he didn’t interrupt, things might get ugly.

“Try us,” Harry ordered.

“Fine,” Malfoy said and although he didn’t balk at the order, Harry could tell that he didn’t like the tone that Harry had used. “Both are forms of Dark magic because they deal with taking magic from other sources and pulling them into yourself. In terms of magical absorption, that basically means that you take the magic and then once you use it, it’s gone.”

“And magical manipulation is not that?” Hermione asked.

“Think of it more like using that additional magic to unlock yourself. You might not necessarily be more magical, but you might have access to kinds of magic that would seem impossible.”

“But Legion is both incredibly powerful and has access to impossible magic,” Harry argued. “How is that the case?”

It was Luna who answered Harry’s question.

“Maybe that has something to do with who he was before the transformation?”

“What does that have to do with it?” Malfoy snapped.

“Let her explain,” Harry barked from one end of the table to the other. This kind of behavior was Harry’s largest concern with Malfoy leading the room momentarily. For the most part of their working relationship, Malfoy had been well-behaved, knowing that one slip up would likely end his career. But he still occasionally had issues with talking down to those that he believed to be inferior in one way or another.

In Luna’s case, Malfoy couldn’t let go of the fact that Luna had once been seen as...well, as a person who believed in...alternative facts.

“Harry, you believe that Legion is actually the Norse demigod, Odin, is that correct?”

Almost immediately, about half of the room groaned. While Harry had been careful not to bring his theory up too often, he had made it clear when he explained the situation to everyone that this was exactly what he believed.

Harry nodded in confirmation, urging Luna to continue.

“Well, there are stories from Odin that date back well over two thousand years. Yet, we know that Legion was captured just over a thousand years ago. If we operate under the assumption that Legion is Odin---”

“Which he is not,” Percy replied.

“If we operate under the assumption that Legion is Odin,” Luna repeated sharply, glaring at Percy, “then it’s logical to assume that he was doing something to keep himself alive prior to turning himself into Legion. We know that magical people can live to be old, but not a thousand years old.”

“And if Legion is Odin,” Hermione said, which garnered another round of groans, “then he would have already had to be incredibly powerful prior to his transformation. Norse mythology doesn’t refer to him as Legion, it refers to him as Odin. That means that he was powerful enough while still on the continent to become a legend himself. It was only after he came here that he became Legion.”

Harry considered all of this information and could only come up with one truth.

“He was using something to keep himself alive for years before he completed the ritual,” Harry thought aloud. “What if the ritual is just a more advanced version of that?”

“Not only that,” Hermione added. “What if Legion is still doing that today? Harry, you literally had your magic drained by Legion. You watched him do it to Teddy. You said that he was hurt and then when he drained the magic from you, it seemed to restore him.”

“Yes, and?”

“What if, even before he became Legion, he was draining magic off of other people? What if that’s how he lived so long in the first place and what if the ritual itself is just a more developed form of that same kind of magic?”

Malfoy suddenly stood from his spot at the end of the table and started pacing. Something was clearly on his mind. Harry watched him for a moment before he stood and walked the length of the table towards him.

“Malfoy, what is it?”

Malfoy waved a hand at Harry as he continued to pace. He paced in silence for nearly a full minute before turning back to the room. When he spoke, he never looked up as if meeting the eyes of someone else would break his concentration.

“There is a ritual that fits that description.”

Immediately, the room exploded with sound. After several attempts to silence the room, Harry literally drew his wand and cast a Silencing Charm over everyone but himself and Malfoy.

“Is there a reason that you neglected to share this information until now?” Harry asked as the rest of the room continued to silently curse at Malfoy. In turn, Malfoy turned to one of the bookshelves on the back wall and removed a book.

“Because the ritual doesn’t say anything about manipulating the magic of another person,” Malfoy said, holding the book aloft. “It simply says a source. When I read it, I dismissed it, thinking that for most magical objects, there simply wouldn’t be enough magic to drain. Even enchanted objects are barely magical. They just bear the imprint of magic upon them, a reflection of the enchantment that has been cast on them.”

“Speak English, Malfoy,” Harry snapped.

“What if the source in this ritual wasn’t an object, but another person?” Malfoy suggested. “Plus, part of the other reason that I neglected to mention it was because the ritual involves storing that magic in a phylactery.”

“A what?”

“A magical storage device. Like a Horcrux, but whereas a Horcrux stores part of a soul, a phylactery stores raw magical energy. The phylactery allows them to access that extra magic, giving them the ability to draw on massive amounts of power. It would need to be something that the person would have to carry on them at all times. If they lost it or if it was broken, they would lose access to the extra magic almost immediately and whatever abilities that extra magic granted them would fade away.”

Harry slumped back in the chair next to him.This felt like they were closing in on something worthwhile, something that was close. Maybe this ritual wasn’t exactly it, but it seemed close.

The only problem was this idea of a phylactery. Harry couldn’t remember any sort of object that Legion always had on its person. Of course, the thing that always immediately popped into Harry’s mind when he imagined Legion was its wicked smile. Beyond that, nothing much really mattered. Harry wracked his mind, thinking of every form that Legion had taken, trying to see if there was anything that fit the description.

Then, Harry had a flash of a memory, something from The Riddle House.

“What kind of object could the phylactery be?” Harry pondered aloud.

“Anything really. When I say the magic is stored inside of it, that’s mostly poetic language. In truth, it’s more likely that the item would be imbued with the magic.”

“Could it be a necklace?” Harry asked.

“Sure,” Malfoy said. “Why?”

Harry waved his wand, releasing the room from the Silencing Charm that he had cast on the others.

“When Legion took Andromeda’s form, it wore a necklace, a necklace that I had never seen before. The rest of its attire matched what Andromeda was wearing when she died. But I’ve never seen that necklace before in my life.”

“Maybe you just forgot?” Bill suggested. “I mean I doubt you spent much time looking at Andromeda’s jewelry.”

“This was...different,” Harry said. “It was strange, huge, gaudy, a big, black bird that hung around her neck.”

“A black bird or a blackbird?” Malfoy asked.

“A black bird, I guess. What’s the difference?” Harry replied.

Malfoy turned and looked at Hermione and then at Luna before looking back to Harry.

“In Norse mythology, Odin used ravens as his messengers, one named Thought, the other Memory.”

The room sat in silence for several seconds. For those that believed that Odin and Legion were one and the same, this was more proof. But for Bill and the others who doubted, this was just another coincidence which Bill immediately pointed out.

“Harry, Odin isn’t real. He is a myth. Even if Legion was from that area originally, it’s more likely that he simply took the name as his own.”

“You’re right,” Harry replied. “I know that it doesn’t matter one way or the other. It doesn’t change what we do or how we do it. But if this is truly Odin, the Father of Norse Mythology, then that changes what happens when we remove the ritual.”

“Why?”

“Because Odin is a myth,” Harry answered. “He’s a legend, a story told to children as a way to pass their history. If this man is the beginning of all that history, that means that even if we remove the ritual, it’s still very possible that we’re dealing with a wizard far beyond any of us.”

Once again, the room fell silent as everyone considered what Harry just said. Harry knew that he wasn’t helping anyone feel less afraid, but that wasn’t his job. His job was to prepare everyone for the worst and the worst case scenario is that they would undo the ritual and still face a wizard well beyond their capabilities.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Hermione said, a sentence that rarely came out of her mouth. “Say that he was draining people of their magic. That wouldn’t keep him alive forever. Even if the Arch stopped or slowed his aging, Legion seems to be under the belief that it is immortal.”

“So he used the ritual to keep himself alive?” Bill asked.

“Yes, but you’d need an infinite source of magic…” Hermione said, her voice trailing off as she suddenly raced to a bookshelf behind Harry, scanning for something.

“What are you looking for?” Harry asked.

Hermione ignored him until she found what she was looking for. The book was ancient with a black leather cover and nothing to mark it as anything out of the ordinary.

“This is a book on theoretical magic,” Hermione explained. “Basically, it goes through the fundamental theories on magic, including the theory of where magic comes from and how it works.”

Hermione opened the book and began flipping pages rapidly until she found a spot about three-quarters of the way through the book. Once she stopped, her finger pressed against the page and she scanned for the exact passage she was looking for.

“Magic is found in all life,” Hermione read aloud. “Even Muggles, who seemingly possess no magical abilities, possess latent amounts of magical energy. They simply have no way of using it. Witches and wizards possess just enough magic that we are able to manipulate it, but we are not considered magical creatures in the same way that a dragon, whose scales reflect magic due to their magical properties and not, as is commonly suggested, because of their density.”

“If it was possible to collect enough magic in a single being, it has been suggested that there is a threshold that, if eclipsed, would allow you to have constant access to increasing levels of power. Effectively, this would give the being in question the ability to generate its own magic at will. It is uncertain what this would mean for the being in question, but it is likely that, should such an experiment succeed, we would see a new form of magical creature, one capable of accessing the very nature of magic itself.”

Hermione looked up at Harry, a look of combined horror and fascination on her face.

“What if Legion took that ritual and used it not once, but several times?” Hermione suggested.

“A dozen times,” Harry replied. “When we used the sensor, it read as if he were twelve people.”

“So, what if he figured out a way to alter the ritual so that he would absorb the magic of a dozen incredibly powerful magical beings at the same time?” Hermione asked. “What if Legion, in order to gain access to more magic, took the magic from twelve other beings and, in the process, became what he is today?”

It was an insane proposition. They were dealing with the very edges of magical knowledge and diving firmly into magical theory, a field that only Hermione and Malfoy seemed to know anything about. Still, the information lined up. The line wasn’t straight and there were still some questions that needed to be asked, but it made sense.

“Then the only way to stop him would be to remove his access to that magic,” Harry replied. “We would have to destroy that necklace.”

“We’re not even sure that this is even a remote possibility,” Arthur countered. “If you go in there and this isn’t how the ritual is undone, then we all die.”

Harry had to admit that Arthur had a point. While there would come a point where they would be forced to act, regardless of the amount of information they had, they weren’t quite at that point yet.

But Harry had an idea, a way to confirm at least part of their theory.

“Hermione, Malfoy, get me everything you have on this theory,” Harry ordered as he stood. “I want it on my desk in an hour.”

“What are you doing?”

“Well, I only know of one Pensieve in the world and I need to use it.”


	24. The Calm

Within ten minutes, Harry was standing in the Headmaster’s Office at Hogwarts, having sent a letter to McGonagall to tell her what exactly he needed from her. Needless to say, she was not pleased to have been visited almost entirely unannounced in the middle of dinner. Still, she accommodated Harry and pulled the Pensieve out of its cupboard, setting it on the desk.

“What do you hope to find?” 

“Answers,” Harry said before plunging his face into the cold waters of the Pensieve. Just like every other time Harry had entered the Pensieve, he found the initial feeling of falling through nothingness to be unnerving, but by the time that Harry’s feet touched the floor of the kitchen of Safe House Four, he was used to the sensation.

Once he landed, Harry moved to the far end of the kitchen as the memory played out in front of him. Memory Harry laid on the floor, the skin on his back scalding from the grease that Legion had poured down his back. Legion kneeled down in front of him, taunting his prey.

This was the first time that Harry had used a Pensieve to revisit one of his own memories and immediately, he found the whole experience to be startling. Imagine experiencing your own memories, but from a third person point of view that allowed you to pick up on things that you missed. Imagine being able to look at yourself, not through a mirror, but as you actually are.

To say it was strange would be a gross understatement.

_ “But you’ll try, I’m sure”  _ Legion said as Harry finally turned his focus to the two other bodies in the room,  _ “which will just make it even more enjoyable when I take your loved ones from you. You’ll fight and you’ll fail, Harry Potter, and then as I kill everyone that you now and love, I will feed on their memories of you and the love that they hold for you. In their final moments, they’ll know that their love for Harry Potter is what killed them.” _

Harry watched as Legion removed his hand from Memory Harry’s shoulder and placed it on his head.

_ “This is the world as it will be.” _

When Harry had made the decision to return to this memory, he knew that there was no way of going through this without viewing the vision that Legion showed him, since it was effectively the opposite of the vision that Harry would force Legion to show him. 

Still, that didn’t mean that Harry was ready. 

The kitchen of Safe House Four disappeared, replaced by the ruins of Hogwarts. At the far end of the hall stood Legion, dressed as Voldemort, easily identified as a mockery of Lord Voldemort, except for the smile. Harry closed his eyes and pressed on, knowing that they needed the answers that Harry sought, but terrified to see them.

_ “They all died for you, Harry.” _

With his eyes closed, Harry couldn’t see the bodies fall from the sky, but he heard them land. One by one, they hit, each of them sending a deafening crack through the air as their bodies hit the stone of the Entrance Hall.

_ “First, I’ll take the child.” _

Harry heard Teddy scream, his fists clenching as the sound of the flame that took him roared to life. One by one, all of them met the same fate: the same scream followed by the sound of fire raging up to take them from him.

_ “Then, when you are at your darkest point, I will take her and I will break her. Only then, at your lowest point, will I kill you, Harry Potter.” _

Harry opened his eyes just in time to see Memory Harry throw his arms out in front of him.

“NO!”

Just then, the memory warped from the halls of Hogwarts to the rolling waters of the open sea. A ship appeared on the horizon and Harry felt Memory Harry pull them towards the ship until suddenly, they were both standing side by side on the deck of the ship.

They were surrounded by men on benches, each of them pulling a large oar through the water. In front of them was a man standing in the center of a circle of others. He was tall, his features so sharp that you were afraid his cheekbones might cut you, and he had a thick, blonde beard that matched the short hair on top of his head. His right eye appeared blank and a large scar cut across it.

But most importantly, hanging from his neck was a large raven, the same necklace that Harry had seen when Legion took Andromeda’s form. This may or may not have been Odin, but there was no question that he certainly fashioned himself after the Norse god.

There was also no question that this was their man and that the necklace was their best bet to stop Legion once and for all.

That’s when Harry noticed the men standing in the circle around Legion. They all stood with their arms held to the sky, facing Legion in the center, who was holding the raven necklace in front of him. The men appeared to be glowing, pulsating in the same way that Legion had when Harry had hit him with the Killing Curse.

Then, the vision disappeared with a flash of light and Harry and Memory Harry stood outside of the employee entrance to the Ministry of Magic. Immediately, Harry withdrew from the Pensive, landing moments later in the Headmaster’s Office once more.

As Harry composed himself, McGonagall approached him.

“Well, did you find what you were looking for?”

“I did,” Harry said, although he still wasn’t entirely certain how he felt about that. On one hand, they knew what they needed to do now. If Harry had to guess, he would say that what he had just witnessed was the ritual that had turned Odin into Legion. On the other hand, that meant that they had a very limited window for stopping Legion.

It would take as many people as humanly possible to take Legion down.

That’s why when Harry returned to Safe House Four, after briefly relaying what he had learned to Hermione and Malfoy, Harry retreated to his bedroom and began writing. For hours, he wrote letter after letter, urging as many of his former comrades to join him in this fight. Over the last decade, Harry had not necessarily been the best person and barely a good friend to those that were closest to him.

Still, he hoped that he could inspire others to take up arms one more time.

For nearly two days, Harry wrote non-stop, informing people outside of his small circle about the threat that Legion posed, and his general plan to take Legion down permanently. When the time finally came for everyone to meet, the meeting took place, not at Safe House Four, but at The Hog’s Head in Hogsmeade, the most appropriate place Harry could think of.

Harry and Hermione arrived with Elaina and Malfoy, allowing them to see up a table in the center of the room for all to see. Within a few moments, all the members of the Weasley clan arrived as expected. As far as Harry knew, Luna and Gabrielle were the only other people that had confirmed their attendance.

The fact that the next person to walk through the door was neither of them truly shocked Harry. While it had only been a few months since Harry had seen him, it seemed like it had been ages. Thankfully, time had certainly been kind to Viktor Krum. He was still tall and a bit awkward on the ground, but the specs of grey that were starting to form in his hair and beard gave him a distinguished look that Harry imagined most women (and men, if Harry was being honest) would find incredibly attractive.

“Headmaster?” Harry said, extending a hand towards Viktor.

“On a normal day, yes. But today, I am vanting to be just Viktor, your friend. I am here to help.”

“We’ll gladly take it,” Harry replied warmly as Viktor took a seat next to Hermione, who instantly began talking to Viktor in stilted Bulgarian. “Excuse me? When the hell did you learn Bulgarian.”

Hermione smiled at Harry.

“Three years after the war, I spent the summer in Bulgaria. Didn’t have much else to do so I learned Bulgarian. Of course, it’s been seven years since then so I’m a little rusty.”

Harry honestly hoped that they would defeat Legion if for no other reason than there were still so many things that he could learn about Hermione Granger.

Then, just as if someone turned on the water faucet, people came pouring into The Hog’s Head. Former Order members, members of Dumbledore’s Army, old classmates: they all arrived just minutes before the scheduled time to show their support for Harry. One of his former classmates approached Harry, his head down.

Of all the people that had arrived, his presence was the most surprising.

“Mate, I...I shouldn’t have acted the way I did,” Dean said softly. Harry could tell that his words were genuine. Still, Harry had no real issue with Dean, outside of one item.

“You don’t need to apologize to me,” Harry replied. “I think you owe Ginny an apology more than me.”

“I know,” Dean said before retreating back to a corner where Seamus Finnigan sat with his husband, Terry Boot. Just then, when Harry thought that everyone had finally arrived, Kingsley and McGonagall walked through the door and walked directly up to Harry, causing the room to go silent.

“Potter, we can’t go with you on your mission,” McGonagall said firmly, “but we wanted to be here to let you know that we support you. We’ll offer any resources we can. Just say the word and it’s yours.”

Harry appreciated their presence. He hadn’t expected either of them to come. Of course, he hadn’t expected nearly fifty people to show up either.

“Thank you,” Harry replied. “I think we have all the supplies and personnel we need. And since I am Head Auror, you’ve sort of supplied the rest of the manpower, sir.”

“Anything else you need, Harry, you let us know,” Kingsley said with a sad smile. 

“Will do.”

The two of them then turned and walked to one of the far corners of the room, blending in with the rest of them. There were so many people there that at least a dozen people were standing outside the windows, despite the frozen temperatures, listening to Harry through the windows.

It was far more than Harry could have ever hoped for. Now, he just had to make sure that they all made it home.

“Thank you all for coming,” Harry said firmly, although he could have whispered and still been heard. The moment he started talking, the room went silent once more.

“Some of you know the whole plan, some of you know parts, and others know nothing. Yet, you all came. Before I get into anything more specific, I want to thank all of you for coming. I don’t know what the next few days will bring, but I know that your presence means more to me than I can express.”

Harry then aimed his wand at the table and the map came to life, creating a three-dimensional model of the castle and the surrounding forest so that everyone could see exactly what Harry was talking about. Harry spent about five minute briefly telling everyone what exactly Legion was and what it could do before going on with the plan in general.

“Now, most of you are going to be crowd control,” Harry explained, drawing a circle around the property. “I don’t mean crowd control in the literal sense, of course, but you’ll be there to ensure that we have backup should we need it and to act as a lookout in case Legion tries to escape.”

“Before any of that happens, myself, Hermione, and Malfoy will Apparated to the house and approach the house on foot. Once we are in position, we’ll have everyone else Apparate to the assigned point. We’ll wait another ten minutes and then Hermione will take down the wards.”

Harry then waved his wand in a circle around the castle and the map zoomed in directly on the castle itself. There were roughly six glowing spots that encircled the castle.

“Each of these are watchpoints. That’s where you will be split up along with the Rookie Aurors. Each watchpoint will be led by one of my Junior Aurors. All these groups will fall under the command of Senior Auror Morgan Fawley. The rest of my Junior and Senior Aurors will form up with a select group of yourself to join me in storming the castle. Those people are Hermione, Dawlish, Ginny, George, Malfoy, Fleur, Abbi, Bill, Elaina, Collin Law, Manuel Collins, Emmett Davies, and Viktor. Once we are inside, the Aurors will take the castle, ensuring that there is no way in or out of the castle without Legion making a bunch of noise. Once that has happened, my team will find Legion and break the phylactery. In theory, this should allow us to Stun him and take him back to the Ministry.”

Harry turned away from the map and looked around the room.

“I want to be clear. There is no telling what can happen once we’ve broken the phylactery. Legion might die, it might get even more powerful, it might pass out. We honestly have no idea. This is the moment when having so many of you will be helpful. You need to be prepared for anything.”

Suddenly, Ginny stood up at the front.

“What happens if we’re able to Stun Legion?”

“We bring Legion back to the Ministry,” Harry replied. “All of the Aurors will immediately report to the Department of Mysteries along with my team. The rest of you will be dismissed at this time.”

“We’re not going to fight any more?” Seamus asked. “You’ve got us playing lookout and then going home?”

“We’re not children anymore,” Cho Davies protested.

Almost immediately, the room got too loud for anyone to hear themselves as they began to protest Harry’s decision. It took Harry firing off a loud crack with his wand for the room to go silent once more.

“A few things I would like you to remember. First, you are right, Seamus, we are not children anymore. As such, you aren’t volunteering to just do what you want. You are volunteering for a Ministry-sanctioned mission led by the Head Auror. Second, the people that I have chosen are the people that have the greatest understanding of what Legion can do. For most of them, they’ve been working with me for weeks to try and figure out a way to stop Legion. They are as prepared as any of us can be, which is to say, not at all.”

That seemed to placate most of them. While Harry was pleased that so many had shown up to help, he was not about to allow anyone to second guess him. If he showed that anyone could push back now, he would spend every minute until they attacked fielding questions about his plans, something he simply did not have time for.

“Now, before we do this, I want to say one last thing,” Harry said, his voice suddenly somber. “Legion has already taken people from me, people that I love. Some of you loved those same people. That’s why you’re here. It is a being of such immense magical power that I recruited all of you plus the entirety of the Auror Office to take it on. Still, it might not be enough.”

Harry knew that they needed to hear this. This wasn’t like the Battle of Hogwarts. They weren’t children and they weren’t pressed into a battle against their will. They were leaders now and they needed to be aware of the fact that Harry couldn’t guarantee their safety. Of course, he would do everything he could, but in the end, there was a likelihood that at least some of them wouldn't return home to their families.

“We’re going to meet at the staging area twenty-four hours from now,” Harry said firmly. “Take that time to be with your family and to really, truly consider if this is something you want to do. If you show up, then I’ll be glad to fight alongside you one more time. If you don’t, none of us will think any worse of you. But if you show up, you do that understanding that you are putting yourself on the line.”

There was a nervous calm in the room as Harry looked at each and every one of them. Finally, Augusta Longbottom stood. Ten years had passed since the Battle of Hogwarts, but she was just as fiery as that day. 

“I think I can safely speak for everyone in the room when I say that we are with you until the end.”

Harry smiled and nodded softly.

“Even so. Take this time. Be with your loved ones and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Harry spent the next several hours coordinating the attack on Legion’s castle before following his own advice. He returned to Safe House Four and spent his evening making dinner for most of the house. Harry was a better cook than he let on and more than anything else, the act of cooking dinner for a dozen people offered a good distraction. It took him nearly three hours to complete dinner, eat, and wash up afterwards, which meant that it had achieved what Harry had wanted: wasting time. After that, he watched as Teddy jumped into Hermione’s lap, grabbing one of the books that she had read before coming to Hogwarts that she had gone and taken from her parents’ storage locker in Chelsea. 

Teddy and Hermione had always gotten along pretty well, but over the last several days, Teddy had taken to spending more time with Hermione than he did with anyone else, which couldn’t have made Harry happier. He shouldn’t have been surprised. They were kindred spirits in a way, both of them outcasts and extremely bright. While Harry would always have Quidditch to share with his adopted son, there would be so many things that Harry had no knowledge of, things that Hermione knew a great deal about.

There was a lot to figure out when all of this was over. Harry was ostensibly Teddy’s father now. Hermione was Harry’s partner and he hoped, someday, more, but that didn’t necessarily mean that Teddy would see Hermione as anything more than Harry’s friend. Teddy’s already growing affection for Hermione would make any sort of potential transition ahead much easier.

That was assuming there was a transition to be made. They still had to get through tomorrow.

That night, Harry and Hermione made love for what felt like the first time in ages. It was quiet and tender, nothing like some of their more wild romps in the sack. Afterwards, they each laid next to the other, staring up at the ceiling. For nearly an hour, both of them laid there in silence.

It was Hermione who eventually broke the silence with the only question that could be asked.

“Do you think there’s a chance?” she asked cautiously.

“There’s always a chance,” Harry replied, although he wasn’t just certain that he believed the words coming out of his mouth.

“Our plan isn’t all that good, you have to admit,” Hermione replied. “I mean, it basically amounts to ambushing Legion and praying that we can take him down.”

“Is there any other way to do it?” Harry asked. 

“I don’t think so,” Hermione admitted. “I just wish we had something better.”

“Me too,” Harry said as he turned over to Hermione. The moon shone in through the window behind her, creating a silver silhouette around her that made her look like an angel. Harry could barely see her face, but it was clear that she was just as frightened as Harry was. For weeks, they had been the head of this mission, the two of them. They had been strong and confident while burying any feelings they might have had to the contrary.

Now, for just a moment, they could admit to each other that they were afraid.

“Listen, this plan...it’s not great, but it is the best that we could do,” Harry added. “If we get in there and it’s clear that we were wrong about the phylactery or if it does nothing, then we bail and we try again. But if we are right, then we can end this.”

“And what happens then? What happens if it doesn’t work?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted, “but I’m not thinking about that right now.”

“Because if it fails, then we lost and the rest of the wizarding world is now at the mercy of Legion.”

“Right,” Harry said after a beat. “That’s why we have to win and that’s why we have to try and catch it off guard. We can’t even begin to compete with it on a magical level. The only way to win is to surprise him. Then, we just have to hope that everyone is ready to do what is necessary.”

This had been the one point in the plan that Hermione had originally pushed back against. It was widely assumed by all of them that one simple spell wouldn’t break the phylactery. Either, they would need something to break it like a Horcrux (they were bringing the Sword of Gryffindor, just in case) or they would need an immense amount of magical power, likely from multiple sources.

In Harry’s mind, the only magic that powerful, that destructive was the Killing Curse. Harry believed that if you hit the phylactery multiple times with the Killing Curse, then it would break. He believed that the phylactery had weakened when Harry hit Legion with the Killing Curse in the Riddle House.

That’s why he had reverted back to his original form, albeit momentarily. If they could keep doing that, then, in Harry’s mind, they stood a chance of breaking it.

Hermione believed that any spell of a sufficient magical level would work. Specifically, she believed that a Patronus would work just as well, if not better. But Harry had never seen a Patronus destroy anything, which was what they needed to do.

“Harry, when you needed to defeat Voldemort, you could have tried to kill him,” Hermione replied. “You could have tried to cast the Killing Curse on him and you would have failed. It wasn’t your ability to destroy things that led you to defeat him. It was your compassion, your love of others. That’s what helped you beat him.”

“But we’re not fighting Riddle. Riddle was a man. He may have been incredibly powerful and morally bankrupt, but he was still a man. Maybe Legion was a man at one point, but he isn’t anymore. Plus, consider this: if we don’t take Legion out tomorrow, how many people will end up dying? Hundreds? Thousands? More?”

“You can’t think like that,” Hermione countered. “Worry about tomorrow. Worry about making sure that Legion gets put back inside the Arch. Just don’t make this about getting revenge for Ron or for Andromeda.”

“This is exactly about getting revenge for them,” Harry replied as he sat up. “There’s no other way to look at it in my mind. Legion killed my son’s grandmother. It killed my best friend and it killed one of my oldest friends. This will be my revenge, Hermione, but it’s not going to be sloppy. We’re going to go in there, we’re going to destroy that phylactery, and then we’re going to throw that bastard back in its cell where it belongs.”

“I know. Just make sure that you don’t lose yourself in the process.”

“I won’t,” Harry assured her. “And if I do, then I know that you’ll pull me back.”

“Damn straight,” Hermione said before planting a kiss on Harry’s cheek. While they could have laid there and talked for hours, they knew they needed to get some sleep. It was already late and they were getting up early to begin preparations for the attack. Both of them laid on their back and spent quite some time simply staring at the ceiling. It was quite a while before Harry heard the sound of Hermione’s breathing slow, indicating that she had reluctantly fallen asleep. 

Hours later, Harry still hadn’t managed to get to sleep. He watched Hermione sleep restlessly. Even though she was asleep, it was clear that sleep wasn’t coming easily to her either. Finally, Harry couldn’t stand it anymore. He threw on a robe and grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey, intending to go and have a drink of the balcony, thinking that maybe he would fall asleep out there again.

Unfortunately, there was someone already there.

“Trouble sleeping?” Harry asked as he approached Malfoy, who was leaning over the railing. There was nothing much to watch. It was that time of night when the world seemed to stop. All you could hear was the gentle hum of the city and all there was to look at was the lights of Central London in the distance.

Harry took out his wand and waved it over his glass, instantly duplicating it. Then, he poured a healthy portion of firewhiskey in each before passing one of the glasses to Malfoy, who took it skeptically. 

“Trouble sleeping would imply that I had slept at all,” Malfoy replied. 

“Same here.”

“I figured you would be sleeping like a baby in there,” Malfoy shot back. 

“Why is that?”

“Well, you’ve already saved the world once. What’s the big deal about a second time?”

Over the last several weeks, Harry and Malfoy had maintained a cordial relationship. They rarely spoke outside of meetings for work, despite the fact that they had lived together for weeks. They didn’t interact and when they did, it was usually awkward, but brief.

However, that hadn’t stopped Malfoy from being Mafloy on a few occasions. So far, Harry had done a good job of ignoring the greasy git, but with the pending assault on Legion’s castle just a few hours away, Harry could no longer stand it.

“Merlin, you are a fucking ass,” Harry mused as he took a swig from his glass.

“Excuse me?”

“You stand here, clearly worried about something, and yet you have the audacity to try and shame me for feeling concerned,” Harry growled. “Last I checked, your father was still in prison for war crimes. Last I checked, your mother was still hiding at Malfoy Manor.”

“What the hell do they have to do with this?”

“Because you think that I’m here trying to save the world,” Harry replied. “I’m not trying to save the world. Hermione reminded me earlier that I can’t do that. So I’m trying to protect her. I’m trying to protect Teddy and the rest of the people that I care about. What the hell are you even doing here?”

Malfoy was clearly stunned by the question as he physically withdrew from Harry in response.

“What?”

“You helped us with the runes, fine. You’ve been helpful in looking at the ritual, great. But why are you still here? This kind of thing isn’t what a Malfoy does.”

“What kind of thing is that?”

“Risking yourself for others,” Harry said coldly. “You could have walked away two days ago. You helped us figure out the runes and the ritual. You could have walked and we would have said that you did plenty. You would have done more than anyone would have ever expected of you. So why are you still here?”

Malfoy paused for a moment and then sat down on one of the chairs behind him. Before he answered, he drained the glass in his hand.

“Because you were right.”

Of the list of things that Harry never thought he would experience in his life, hearing Draco Malfoy tell him that he was right (and mean it) was right there with catching a unicorn barehanded and beating Ron in wizard’s chess at the top of the list. But he hadn’t imagined it. It was clear that Malfoy had given this a lot of thought.

Hell, it might have been why he was out here in the first place.

“Right? How?” Harry asked apprehensively.

“It was what you said to me at Malfoy Manor, the first time you visited a few months back,” Malfoy said as Harry refilled his glass and took the chair to his right. “You told me that I had been a coward. That I hid behind others. You told me that I had refused to truly stand up for what was right.”

“When I sat in Azkaban, I seriously thought about what I would do when I got out. And every time that thought crossed my mind, I answered the same way: I was going to restore the Malfoy family to its former glory and I was going to make you pay. There was only one problem with that.”

“What’s that?”

“I wasn’t going to have the ability to do that,” Malfoy mused. “The Ministry stripped my family of everything. They took our gold, they took our privacy, everything. The only thing they didn’t end up taking was the house. When I got home, I was the only one there. For three years, I lived in that house alone and in that time, I realized that the rest of the world didn’t care about the Malfoys. They had never cared about the Malfoys.”

“They had cared about the power. Once that power was gone, everyone left. Three years I lived there by myself and I had not a single visitor. Not one friend from school. None of the other Death Eater’s children. None of them.”

“Are you expecting me to feel bad for you?” Harry asked honestly. “I don’t mean to be cruel, but if you are expecting to be a shoulder for you to tell me how lonely you were, you are going to be sorely mistaken.”

“No, I don’t expect that from you, Potter,” Malfoy snapped, showing just a hint of the old Draco Malfoy before resuming his story. “I tell you that so that you understand. I understood that there was no way back. Sure, Purebloods may still hold large levels of influence in our world. But the ones who supported the Dark Lord publicly, like my family, we lost it all. I’m certain there are some out there who are probably still trying to get it back, but I decided that I didn’t want that anymore.”

“I made a promise to myself that I was going to live a normal life. I was going to go get a job and work hard. I was going to hopefully start a family. Over time, I hoped to forge a new reputation for the Malfoy family. We weren’t going to be the type that would save the world, but we wouldn’t be the monsters that the world sees us as now.”

Malfoy suddenly laughed at some thought that popped into his mind. Then, he turned to Harry.

“Then, you came to my house and turned me inside out. When I had informed you about Legion, I honestly hadn’t done it out of any sort of honorable intention. I believe that, as an Unspeakable, it is my job to prepare the world for the worst. Orson Welles does not share that belief. So I told you about Legion and about the havoc that it was going to create.”

“When you came to my house, you might have been talking for yourself, but what you told me was that I did owe the world for my behavior and the behavior of my family. I needed to do more than simply  _ do my job.  _ So, I helped Weasley and Granger with the runes and then I helped with the ritual.”

Harry was well aware of the fact that the Draco Malfoy that sat before him was not the same boy that had let Death Eaters into the school as a sixteen-year-old. But Harry hadn’t put much thought into just how much Malfoy had changed since that day. While it had cost the wizarding world its greatest champion, that night was the beginning of an evolution that had taken Draco Malfoy nearly ten years to complete.

“You’re here because you want to be,” Harry said confidently.

“I am,” Draco admitted. “But over the last few weeks, this has become more than simply making up for my family’s faults and it has become more than just my job. This is something I believe in. I believe in what we’re doing, which is something that I’ve never been able to say about anything.”

“Not even all that Pureblood nonsense?”

Malfoy considered that question for a moment before giving a simple answer.

“It is what I was taught,” Malfoy said, deliberately punctuating the final word in that sentence. “I honestly still believe that magical people are better than Muggles. Do I believe that means that we need to exterminate them? No. But I know that all that bullshit that my parents taught me about Muggleborn witches and wizards being less than Pureblood is bullshit. Look at Granger.”

“Yes,” Harry said. He had to admit that he was somehow a bit disappointed in Malfoy. While he supposed that it was too much for Malfoy to completely change, Harry had hoped that this new outlook on life that Malfoy had adopted would affect how he viewed the world around him a bit more drastically.

Still, Malfoy had come a long way in the last decade. Maybe he would go even farther in the next ten years.

“If you had told me a year ago that I would be sitting on a balcony in the middle of the night with Harry Potter, baring my soul, I would have told you you were insane,” Malfoy said.

“I would have been surprised myself,” Harry admitted. “But, here we are.”

“Yes, here we are.”

Harry and Malfoy sat in silence for a few minutes before Malfoy turned to Harry once more.

“Thank you, by the way. Your inspiration may have been...unusual, but without it, I don’t think I would have ever gone down this path.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And thank you for trusting me. I know it can’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t,” Harry said in agreement, “but I guess there was some part of me that wanted to believe that you could change. I haven’t exactly been the best version of myself either. If you could change, then maybe I could as well.”

Draco nodded his head and then refilled Harry’s glass before raising his own.

“To our best selves,” Draco suggested.

“To our best selves,” Harry echoed before clinking his glass against Malfoy’s and then taking a deep drink from his glass. As he sat there, looking out over the city, Harry could only hope that he could be his best self tomorrow when it would really matter. He honestly believed that he could. With that thought in his mind, Harry bid Malfoy goodnight and returned to his room where he almost instantly fell asleep, his mind momentarily calmed by his conversation with Malfoy and the hope that it had given him.

All he could do now was trust in those around him. That, in the end, would be the only way to see this through.


	25. The Storm

Harry only slept for a few hours and when he awoke, the sun had still not yet risen. Still, the entire Safe House was already awake and on edge, clearly ready for the day. One way or another, it would all end in just a few hours. Harry looked in on Teddy, still asleep thankfully, before heading to take a shower.

Once he was prepped, he headed to the kitchen where Molly was already hard at work making breakfast. In fact, there was already a plate of potatoes and eggs sitting at the end of the table.

“Eat up, Harry,” Molly said as she worked on cracking another pile of eggs into the skillet on the stovetop. 

Despite the fact that Harry did not at all feel like eating anything, he knew that he needed the calories. Today was going to be one of the most stressful days of his entire life and doing it on an empty stomach would have just been foolish.

Moments later, Hermione came down the stairs, dressed and ready to go. Once again, Molly’s timing was impeccable as the moment Hermione sat down next to Harry, a plate appeared in front of her.

“How did you sleep?” Hermione asked softly.

“Not well,” Harry grunted. “You?”

“Same.”

It was rare for Hermione to be so succinct and yet he couldn’t blame her. She must have had a thousand things going on in her mind, just like him. They were responsible for everyone’s safety today and if a single person was harmed, that would ultimately fall back on them, not that there was anything they could honestly do about it. People were going to get hurt today and possibly worse. 

The best they could do was mitigate the damage and ensure that Legion finally went down.

They finished eating in silence before Harry went upstairs to look at Teddy one last time. Again, Teddy was asleep and for several minutes, Harry just stood in the doorway, watching him. If all went well, he would have the rest of his life to watch Teddy grow up into the fine, young man that Harry anticipated he would become. Still, the fear that Harry was working hard to bury kept telling him that this could be the last time he ever saw his son.

In the distance, Harry heard Hermione call his name. It was already time to go. Just as Harry turned to leave, Teddy spoke up.

“Are you leaving?” Teddy asked, clearly having woken up at some point. Harry paused. He considered simply telling Teddy to go back to sleep, but that nagging thought at the back of his mind told him that he would be disappointed in himself if this was truly the last moment he got to spend with Teddy.

If this was it, he was going to make it count. Harry walked into Teddy’s room and sat down on the edge of the bed next to him.

“I am,” Harry said, unable to prevent his voice from trembling. Still, he tried to put on a good face for the boy.

“Are you scared?” Teddy asked.

For a moment, Harry considered lying. He thought about telling Teddy that he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that everything would be fine. But he had spent so much time lying over the last few years that the idea of lying to a child, even about something as important as this, sickened him.

“I am,” Harry admitted softly. “It’s a dangerous thing we’re going to do today.”

“But you’re prepared, right? You’ve thought of everything.”

Harry chuckled warmly. “You can’t think of everything. But you can think of as much as possible. And yes, I think we’ve done that.”

“Then I think you’ll be fine,” Teddy stated plainly.

“Really?” Harry said with a smile. “What makes you so certain?”

“Because you are there and you don’t lose.”

Harry thought about that for a moment. It was amazing to think that this child, this child who had lost his parents at such a young age, believed that Harry was unbeatable. Of course, Harry knew better. He had lost more than anyone. He had lost time and time again.

“Now, I want to tell you something,” Harry said softly. “I lose all the time. Everyone, even the best of us, lose all the time. Even still, it’s not the losing that matters. What matters is that you don’t ever give up. Not ever.”

“We might lose today,” Harry admitted. “But I promise you that as long as I can, I will never give up. I can’t. Because I’m fighting for you, Teddy. I’m fighting for you and Hermione and all the Weasleys and all the rest of the people I love. But the reason I can do that is people like you, people that inspire me to be better.”

“I inspire you?” Teddy asked in awe. “How?”

“Because of how brave you’ve been,” Harry replied. “You saw terrible things, something that no one should ever have to see. I know that you miss Andromeda. You always will. But you’ve kept on going and that inspires me to keep going. You give me the faith that I can keep going, even when it seems too hard.”

“Wow. I didn’t think that I inspired anyone.”

“Well, you inspire me,” Harry said, ruffling Teddy’s hair. “Now, go back to sleep. Before you know it, I’ll be back and we can talk about what happens next.”

“I hope so.”

Harry reached over and took the covers, pulling them back over Teddy and tucking him in tight. Then, he leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.

“I love you, Teddy.”

“I love you, too, Harry,” Teddy replied as he rolled over, doing his best to go back to sleep.

Harry wanted nothing more than to stand there and watch Teddy. Watch him sleep, watch him eat, watch him sit on Hermione’s lap as she read to him. But he needed to go. The only solace that Harry got as he closed Teddy’s door behind him was that if all went well today, there would be time enough for all of that.

Once Harry reached the kitchen, he saw that everyone was ready to go.

“Let’s do this,” Harry said as he turned in place, Apparating from Safe House Four to the staging area: his house in the woods north of Hogwarts. After the meeting the day before, Harry had returned to the house and removed all of the wards, allowing others to Apparate there. Then, he had sent a photo of his house to everyone who had volunteered, giving them the ability to picture it in their mind so that they could Apparate there.

It was just after five in the morning when Harry and the rest of the Safe House Four crew landed at his home. Already nearly a dozen people were standing outside the house, clearly ready to get started. Within ten minutes, that number had quadrupled and once the Aurors arrived at five-thirty, they stood at almost a hundred people.

A small army created for a single purpose: to finally bring down Legion and end its reign of terror.

Once they were all ready, Harry and Hermione briefly went over the plan again before separating the army up into its individual units. At the same time, Harry pulled together his team that would be responsible for returning Legion to the Ministry if their plan to destroy the Phylactery worked.

“Remember, we’re there to distract first and foremost. Hermione and Elaina will be setting up some trap spells while we distract Legion. If all goes well, we should be able to activate the trap and then simultaneously cast Killing Curses at it to destroy the phylactery. Once that happens, we next need to Stun it and return him to the Ministry. From there, it will be up to Bill and Draco to restore the Arch so that we can throw him in.”

“Remember: from the moment that we leave here, you are to be on your guard. This is the most powerful thing that any of us will ever face and if you lower your guard for a minute, you will die. Shield spells will be the most important thing. Keep them up at all times when you are casting for offense. Do that and we might stand a chance. Any questions?”

All them stared silently back at Harry. They looked much how Harry felt: scared and determined. Seeing no further questions, Harry nodded firmly.

“We can do this. Stick together, listen and react accordingly. Once we are inside, orders come from me. This only works if we keep it together. Now, let’s go.”

Harry turned to Elaina.

“Hermione, Malfoy, and I are leaving. Wait for our signal.”

“Yes, sir,” Elaina said firmly.

Harry turned to Hermione and Malfoy, neither of whom looked particularly excited to be going so soon. Still, Harry knew that they would be ready. Harry held out a hand to either of them. The moment they took his hand, Harry turned, Apparating them to the point that Harry had Apparated to just a few days earlier. Once they landed, Harry pulled out the magical sensor and checked it. Sure enough, they were still getting a large magical reading in the distance.

“This way,” Harry said softly as he marched off in the direction of the castle.

For nearly forty minutes, the three of them walked in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Harry, for his part, felt relatively at ease. While it was certainly not an easy thing they were about to do, it still felt better than marching off to certain death like he had during the Battle of Hogwarts

The only part of the whole thing that truly bothered Harry at the moment was the cold. At some point in the night, nearly a foot of snow had fallen on the forest. Even after charming his boots and cloak to keep him warm, the cold and wet seemed to seep everywhere, chilling him to the bone. A quick look at Malfoy and Hermione suggested that they were suffering from the same thing.

They were only a few minutes away when Harry suddenly heard a voice in his head.

_ “Are you coming for me, Harry Potter?”  _ Legion said, causing Harry to stop suddenly, turning in every direction to see if Legion was around. A quick charm told Harry that no one was there. This meant that more than likely, Legion was still in its castle, but it was now talking to Harry through his mind at a great distance, a sign of its increasing power.

“Harry?” Herminoe said, noticing that Harry had stopped suddenly.

_ “You are coming for me. Aren’t you?”  _ Legion added.  _ “Did you think that I couldn’t sense you coming? You and Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger?” _

“Stop it,” Harry growled. 

“Stop what?” Hermione asked.

_ “Keep coming, Harry Potter. Do you dare to progress even if I know you are coming? There is no trap to be set. The trap is mine.” _

“Stop talking!” Harry roared, causing both Hermione and Malfoy to distance themselves from him.

“Harry, who are you talking to?” Hermione asked, real fear creeping into her voice.

“Legion, he’s in my head.”

_ “You say that like it’s something new, Harry Potter. I’ve been in your head for months.” _

Rather than replying, Harry closed his eyes and focused on closing his mind. At this distance, even with the power of Legion, it would be difficult to maintain a connection with Harry if he was actively employing Occlumency. Sure enough, after just a few moments, Harry could feel Legion’s effect losing steam and eventually fade away entirely.

Still, it had been an unsettling experience to say the least.

“Legion knows we’re coming,” Harry said as he pressed on towards the wards.

“And we’re still going?” Hermione said as she raced to catch up with Harry.

“He would have known either way,” Harry reasoned. “We’re as prepared as we’re ever going to be.”

“Did he find out that we know about the phylactery?”

“Legion wasn’t searching my mind, just communicating. Every time he’s gone through my memories, I could see it happening. That didn’t happen this time.”

Within just a few minutes, Harry stopped Hermione and Malfoy. They had reached the wards. Following the plan, Harry drew his wand.

_ “Expecto Patronum!” _

In an instant, a jet of light exploded from Harry’s wand before shaping itself into Prongs, who sprinted a quick circle in front of Harry. Clearly, he was excited to be of use again as he came to a stop in front of Harry.

“Tell Elaina Andrews that we’re ready.”

Prongs nodded deeply before turning and sprinting off into the distance. Now, the only thing to do was wait. In the ten minutes that followed after Prongs disappeared into the distance, nothing happened, which was expected. Finally, when the time came, Harry turned to Hermione.

“Take the wards down.”

Hermione nodded gravely, knowing that this was the point of no return. Once those wards were down, they were committed to taking Legion down today without any chance of retreat. Still, Hermione waved her wand a few times and with one final vertical flick of her wand, Harry could feel the wards fade.

Immediately, Harry saw groups of people Apparate into place around the castle at each of the established watchpoints. Down in the valley between them and the hill where the castle was located stood the rest of Harry’s strike team, along with the rest of the Junior and Senior Aurors who hadn’t been assigned to the perimeter. Harry, followed closely by Hermione and Malfoy, raced down the hill towards them.

Once they arrived, Harry started barking orders.

“Legion knows we’re coming so let’s be quick about this,” Harry roared. “Aurors, take the castle. Teams of four, no one enters a room alone. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir,” was the response from every Auror.

“My team, we follow them in. If there’s some sort of great hall or throne room or something like that, Legion will be there.”

“How do you know?” Manuel Collins asked.

“I just do,” Harry replied curtly. “Now, let’s move!”

Instantaneously, the Aurors raced up the hill and towards the castle with Harry and his team following behind closely. As they reached the castle, one of the Aurors at the front of the pack cast a Blasting Curse on the giant double door that led to the castle. Not surprisingly, the door didn’t give. Thankfully, Hermione worked her way to the front of the pack and began casting a series of detection spells. Within less than a minute, she had determined exactly what wards were protecting the castle and removed them.

Brightest witch of her age, indeed.

Once that was done, Hermione simply pulled the door open and allowed the Aurors to race past her. As Harry approached, he reached out and grabbed her, kissing her fiercely.

“Merlin, I love you.”

“I know,” Hermione responded as they walked inside the castle. The castle itself seemed like a dark reflection of Hogwarts. Whereas Hogwarts’ tall ceilings and vast halls opted to give off a sense of wonder, this castle had clearly been designed to intimidate anyone who walked through the doors. There were no soft edges to this castle. Everything about its architecture was sharp as though the castle itself was a weapon.

The statues that lined the walls of the hallways all appeared to be of Legion itself, carved out of twenty-foot pieces of black volcanic rock. It gave true meaning to Legion’s name, giving him the feeling that he was everywhere, all at the same time. Of course, that could have also been because Legion had been talking his mind not twenty minutes earlier.

Harry and the rest of his team progress through the castle until they found themselves at a giant silver double door with a picture of two massive ravens carved into it, using the same black rock that the statues had been made out of as an inlay.

“I think that answers our question,” George said nervously as he looked at the doors, which each must have been at least forty feet tall. Each of them tried to pull on the doors to no avail. Hermione attempted the same trick that she had pulled on the exterior doors to no avail.

That’s when Harry opted for the simplest solution.

_ “Accio door!” _

The door wasn’t magical and it wasn’t locked. It was just massive, meaning that they weren’t going to be able to pull it open, other than my magical means. While Harry’s spell didn’t do much, it did open the door about a foot. Instantly, the entire team cast the spell simultaneously and the door opened another six or seven feet, giving them plenty of room to walk through it.

When they did, they found themselves standing in a massive hall, much like the Great Hall at Hogwarts. However, just like everything else in this castle, it was designed in Legion’s image. The same statues that stood guard in the hallway also stood along the exterior of this room. Only this time, they had been adorned with silver armor.

Immediately, Harry feared that they could be brought to life in the same way that McGonagall had done with the suits of armor at Hogwarts during the Battle. And yet, that wasn’t the most terrifying thing in the room. 

At the front of the room sat Legion, a distance of almost one hundred yards. He sat on a massive black throne, again seemingly carved out of the same black rock that had been used on the rest of the castle. Behind him stood another statue, this one nearly one hundred feet tall, staring down at all of them.

As they approached, Harry noticed that Legion was not smiling. The only other time that had happened was when Harry had struck him with the Killing Curse. In that moment, Legion had been frightened and furious. Now, Harry had led an army into his house and Harry was certain that Legion felt the same way.

Harry stopped roughly twenty yards from Legion and then motioned for the others to fan out, surrounding Legion in a semi-circle so that none of them got too close to him.

**“I must say, Harry Potter,”** Legion said, speaking so that all could hear him,  **“you have been among my most fascinating enemies. I have done everything I can to destroy you and yet here you are. The only other person who came close was Galahad Peverell himself. Of course, I had no particular grievance with him, the same as I have no particular grievance with you.”**

“Well, I have a grievance with you.”

**“That is the point, isn’t it?”** Legion laughed.  **“That’s why I chose you, Harry Potter. I knew that you would fight back. I didn’t know that you would make your way here, but I must say that I am quite pleased that you did. Now, we can finally end this game.”**

“This isn’t a game,” Harry snapped. “You’ve killed people that I care about. But no more.”

**“You still believe that you can stop me? Harry Potter, I killed your friends slowly because I could. At any time, I could have chosen to simply remove them all, drain them of their magic, and be done with it.”**

“And that was your mistake,” Harry replied, smiling at Legion. “You gave us time. Time to figure out a way to end you.”

**“Even Galahad Peverell couldn’t end me. You honestly believe that you have figured out what he could not?”**

“No, but we can make it right.”

**“I highly doubt that,”** Legion said as it rose from its seat.  **“The more likely option is that you’ll be seeing dear Ronald and Neville and Andromeda very soon.”**

“Not too soon,” Harry said to himself before twisting the wand in his hand, which was aimed at the floor. Instantly, the room began to fill with smoke, preventing any from being able to see. Of course, this had been the plan and as the smoke covered their appearance, they all slipped on glasses that George had created that would let them see Legion through the smoke by honing in on his incredible magical signature.

**“You think that a bit of smoke and mirrors will keep me from killing you!?”**

“Fire!” Harry shouted as the smoke continued to grow. From underneath the smoke, Harry saw dozens of spells fire at Legion. Some of them hit and some of them missed but a fair number were blocked by Legion before they had any chance of doing damage. Still, that answered the one question that Harry needed answered.

Legion, while incredibly powerful and capable of magic far beyond them, still seemed bound by the typical rules of defensive magic. It didn’t seem to possess the ability to simply block every spell at once while also firing spells. In addition, he did not seem capable of casting multiple spells at once as one spell hit him just as he blocked another.

This meant that numbers would become the only advantage they had, one that they needed to use for as long as they could.

Harry continued to generate the smoke that kept them under cover. Meanwhile, Hermione and Elaina began casting a series of enchantments that would keep Legion from moving once activated. The enchantment would likely only work once and only for a brief amount of time so they needed to be ready when Hermione enacted it.

Despite all of the planning they had done, however, and Legion’s limited ability to see, the power that Legion possessed kept the odds firmly in his favor. More than once, it simply threw massive sweeping spells that knocked everyone off their feet. While Legion couldn’t see, Harry suspected that he could still sense their magic through the fog. Even if it only gave him a rough guess where they were at, it meant that it wasn’t truly blind.

For minutes, the sounds of spellfire echoed through the hall, making it sound like a massive indoor fireworks display. And yet, despite the fact that some of the world’s most powerful witches and wizards were in the room, Legion appeared no worse for the wear. It wasn’t tiring as Harry’s team began to slow down from the sheer volume of spells that they had fired to keep Legion from detecting what Hermione and Elaina were doing.

Then, through all the noise, Harry heard Hermione scream: “NOW!”

Just then, Harry watched as Legion suddenly froze in place. It had worked, for the moment. They certainly had only moments before the enchantment would break. With a flick of his wand, Harry cleared the fog. Looking around, Harry saw that his team was sweating, breathing heavily, but still standing.

“Killing Curses now!” Harry bellowed. “Aim at the necklace!”

That’s when Harry saw Legion’s eyes grow wide. They had been right. Harry had no doubt in his mind now. The necklace was the key. Now, they needed to destroy it.

_ “Avada Kedavra!” _

Around the room, only about six of them managed to cast the dark spell and of those that cast it, only a few even had the power to reach Legion. Already, Harry could see him starting to tremor. The effect of the spell was wearing off quickly. They would only get one more chance to make this right.

“Remember what it’s done!” Harry growled. “It has killed Ron and Neville and Andromeda. It killed innocent people, just to get my attention. If this doesn’t happen now, then we all die and Legion can take over the world. Now, do it again!”

Harry raised his wand to Legion, who was smiling at Harry, clearly not impressed with the attack that had just come his way.

“On my mark! Three, two, one, FIRE!”

This time, fourteen green jets of light streaked from the fourteen witches and wizards surrounding Legion. Not a single one fizzled out before reaching it and when they all hit, the necklace broke. For a moment, nothing happened and Harry feared that somehow, they had been wrong.

Then, Harry noticed that Legion had begun to glow, just like he had when Harry had hit him with the Killing Curse at The Riddle House. But this time, that same glow continued until he was washed with light and Legion began to scream in agony. Just as Legion’s scream reached its peak, a wave of magic suddenly exploded from Legion, creating a shockwave that knocked everyone off their feet.

Harry was thrown backwards, hitting the ground hard before sliding several feet. Despite the pain in his back, Harry scrambled to his feet, looking towards the throne where Legion had once sat. Kneeling in front of it was a man. The man that Legion had once been. Harry had seen him a number of times before.

“On your feet!” Harry shouted to his team as he raced to the front of the room with his wand drawn. Harry approached the man, his wand held high. Harry had been right. The tall man with one eye was Legion’s original form. Now, there was one mystery still left to solve.

“What is your name?” Harry asked.

The man looked up at Harry’s wand before turning his face up at Harry. Then, he smiled.

“I was born Wodin, son of Fjolnir,” he said and while his voice sounded like Legion, it also sounded so much more human than Legion’s had. “But you know me as Odin. I am the All Father, the king of all witches and wizards. You shall kneel before me.”

“Kneel before you?” Harry scoffed. “I don’t know if you forgot, but you aren’t Legion any longer.”

Harry twisted his wand and cast a Stunner at Odin, which he easily blocked with his hand. He stood slowly until he reached full height, nearly a head and a half taller than even Bill.

“Harry Potter, I may have lost my memory when I became Legion, but I didn’t not forget how to cast magic,” Odin said. “I have no need for a wand and I have spent years with the ability to feel magic itself course through my body. You may have undone the ritual that gave me everlasting life, but you have not undone me, boy.”

Then, Odin threw out his arms and, in an instant, all of them were blasted backwards. Harry was launched backwards into one of the columns, cracking his head against it. Instantly, Harry had to fight the urge to pass out, knowing that he would be killed instantly if he had.

Looking around, Harry saw that thankfully, none of them had been killed by the blast. Harry looked up just in time to see Odin reach out with his hand towards him. However, unlike the magic that he had cast when he was Legion, this magic was clearly created by his hand, giving Harry time to roll out of the way and onto his feet before the spell impacted where Harry had just been, creating a small crater.

While Harry had been the first to his feet, the others followed in short order and began firing at Odin. Odin in this form was certainly less powerful, but he was furious, enraged in a way that he could never have been as Legion. He was massive, but moved like a smaller man, easily dodging spells and blocking others, while throwing spells to counter easily. It was obvious to see why those attracted to power would follow a man like this.

If Harry hadn’t seen him in action, Harry would have thought that he was a myth too.

As the battle raged, one by one, Harry’s team fell. Manuel and Emmett were dropped by a pair of Stunners while Collin, Malfoy and George were all knocked unconscious by the same Blasting Curse. Dawlish took a Cutting Curse to the leg that caused him to drop to the floor, desperately trying to stem the bleeding. Bill stepped in front of a Stunner meant for Ginny while Abbi took an elbow directly from Odin that caused her head to slap against the floor, knocking her unconscious.

Ginny and Elaina were each thrown against columns by Banishing Spells in the same way that Harry had been. Only they didn’t get up. Within just a few minutes, where there had once been fourteen witches and wizards against Odin, now only four remained: Harry, Hermione, Fleur and Viktor. They were blooded and battered and yet they stood firm against Odin, hoping for some sort of opening that would allow them to put him down for good.

“Harry Potter, I must say that I’m glad that you brought you friends to me,” Odin said, stalking towards them nonchalantly. “You see, with the number of people here, I can recreate the ritual that gave me my powers in the first place. Then, I’ll be able to destroy the Arch and the only people who could have stopped me will already be dead.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Harry growled. He was relatively sure he had a concession and some broken ribs. His vision was starting to blur and occasionally go double. Still, he would give every last breath he had to make sure that Odin never got the opportunity to regain his power.

“You and I both know that you are the most powerful wizard in this room other than myself,” Odin taunted. “We also know that you would never stand a chance if the others had turned on you. Yet, without breaking a sweat, I’ve eliminated most of you.”

While Odin had clearly been working, he hadn’t been wrong about how easy it had been to do so. Still, Odin remained a man and that meant that there was a chance, albeit a small one.

“Now, let’s finish this,” Odin said before raising his hands. As he did so, Harry and the others raised theirs in defense. The onslaught of spells that followed were the most unpredictable and devastating that Harry had ever seen. One spell after the other, each of them as powerful as the last. Harry called out to the others, reminding them to shield themselves. Ultimately, his warnings were in vain. Within a matter of moments, Fleur and Viktor fell leaving Harry and Hermione alone. Then, before Hermione could recover from the last spell that she had blocked, Odin reached out and pulled her to him. Hermione went flying towards him before Legion redirected her so that she flew into one of the side walls, slamming against it with a horrifying crack.

“Hermione!” Harry shouted as Hermione fell to the ground in a heap. He moved to step towards her only to see a Stunner fly across his face. It was only his quick reactions to kept him from getting hit.

“She’ll be fine,” Odin taunted. “They’ll all be fine. I need them to complete the ritual. If they’re dead, then I can’t take their magic.”

“You can’t take the magic if you’re dead,” Harry countered.

“True enough,” Odin replied. “But I think we both know that you can’t be the one to do it. We both saw how you were in the forest. Weak, indecisive. You let two of your friends die because you didn’t want to kill one person. Now you suddenly believe that you have the strength to kill me? It comes down to more than simply wanting to kill someone, boy. You have to have it in your bones and you don’t have it.”

In his heart, Harry knew that Odin was probably right, but Harry refused to back down either way. Instead, he stepped forward, his wand and head held high, as he unleashed everything he had. While Odin’s magical reserves seemed fine, Odin was getting tired. Having spent centuries as a being that needed no sleep or sustenance, Odin wasn’t used to the rigors of a human body. 

As Harry fired spell after spell, Odin did his best to deflect them but his defenses were getting slower to each point. Harry, on the other hand, was, for better or worse, as human as you could get. He had spent years honing his skill, understanding his body and its limitations. He knew just how hard he could push and he knew that, under the worst of circumstances, he had the ability to push even further, to dig into a reserve of magic that others simply didn’t have.

It was his fire, his will to succeed that had let him do that when no one else would have.

And so with every spell that he threw at Odin, he gained power and confidence. He stood tall, the Man Who Lived, the hero of his generation and he threw everything he had at the demigod standing across from him. Slowly, but surely, Odin slowed to such a point where Harry was able to hit him with a Stunner that threw him across the room.

Odin hit the ground and slid to the feet of his throne. But still, even after everything that Harry had given, it was not enough. Almost immediately, Odin began to stir, rising to his knees and then again to his feet. He was tired and he was angry, but when he walked towards Harry, he smiled that same awful smile that Harry had seen dozens of times in his dreams.

“As Legion, I couldn’t understand why others would follow you, but I get it now. You truly are something else, Harry Potter,” Odin said as he dragged himself towards Harry. “Unfortunately, you are bound by a world and rules that simply do not apply to me.”

Odin walked up to Harry, towering over him as Harry stood tall. Harry knew that this was likely the end, but still he would not back down. He raised his wand high and waited for Odin’s attack. 

Odin seemed to sense Harry’s misery and smiled.

“Smile, Harry. You and your friends will live on in me. In a way, you’ll be a god, too.”

“Fuck you,” Harry growled defiantly. 

Just then, just when everything seemed like it was going to come to a head, something happened that Harry never could have predicted.

_ “Stupefy!” _

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a red jet of light scream towards him, slamming into Odin’s side and throwing him towards one of the columns. Harry turned to see Hermione leaning against one of the columns, her left arm clearly broken, hanging at her side. Still, she stood valiantly, her head aimed directly at where Odin had once stood.

Just then, Harry noticed several others stood once more, all of them aiming their wands at Odin, who was already beginning to stir.

“Do it,” Harry said firmly. Instantly, dozens of Stunners flew from the wands until finally Odin lay still. He wasn’t dead, but he was non-responsive and that would allow Harry to finally take him down. Harry walked over to Odin and stood over him, his wand aimed at his chest. Harry was just about to cast the spell when a voice called out to him.

“Harry, stop!”

Harry looked up and saw Elaina running from the other end of the room towards him. In her hands, she held the magical sensor that had led them here in the first place.

“We don’t have time!” Harry shouted.

“You’re right,” Elaina agreed as she approached. Then, she handed the sensor to Harry. The dial was spinning, just as it had when Abbi had sensed Legion a few days earlier. His magical reserves were growing, even as he laid unconscious. By breaking the phylactery, they had temporarily returned him to his human form, but somehow, the magic was returning. Harry supposed that it was possible that, after having access to that magic for so long, Odin’s body was able to generate it on its own.

It meant that even a Killing Curse wouldn’t kill him at the moment. It also meant the only way to take care of him was The Arch. Harry took a quick look around the room. George and Ginny remained unconscious, but the others seemed ready to go. Harry turned to Elaina.

“Get someone in here to take them back to the Safe House,” Harry ordered. “Once that’s done, join us at the Ministry.”

“Yes, sir,” Elaina replied before racing off. 

Harry then turned to the rest of them.

“We’ve got to move quickly. I doubt he’s going to remain down for long. I’ll take him to the Ministry with us. Malfoy, Bill: the moment we land, I want the Arch operational.”

“It will take a couple of minutes to prep the wards,” Bill countered.

“You have seconds,” Harry said before grabbing Odin by the arm and turning in place. When Harry landed, he landed just a few feet away from the Arch, where Bill and Malfoy were already working. A series of popping sounds around him let Harry know that the others had arrived as well.

“Wands out!” Harry barked. “If he wakes up, we’re going to have to do this all over again.”

Sure enough, just as Harry spoke, Odin began to stir. Harry hit him with a Stunner but he knew that was only going to be a temporary solution. 

“Keep working!” Harry said as he dragged Odin back to the bottom of the dais. Once he was there, he began casting every confinement spell that he could think of. When Odin awoke, it would only take him moments to escape from them, but that could be time well spent. Harry finished casting, just as Odin woke up again. Another Stunner caused Odin to pass out for only a few seconds before he woke, this time for good.

He tried to stand before realizing that Harry had magically pinned him to the ground. Harry turned and saw that the Arch was still not operational. Two of the three Runes were glowing, which Harry assumed meant that they were operational. Still, the final Rune remained dormant as Bill and Malfoy silently waved their wands in a complex series of motions.

“Get moving!” Harry shouted as he fired Stunner after Stunner at Odin, which succeeded in barely slowing him down. Even when the others joined in, Odin pressed on, working his way through the spells until finally, he was able to sit up.

Somehow, Odin had returned to the power level that he had while he was Legion. He was likely something closer to mortal now, but decidedly more powerful than anything they could hope to fight against.

“You got close, Potter,” Odin said as the Stunners bounced off his chest. “Closer than anyone before you, but you ran out of time.”

Over his shoulder, Bill shouted: “The Arch is open!”

Harry turned and saw the familiar rippling curtains of The Veil. They had managed to remove the ritual and they had managed to open the Arch, two things that a few months ago had seemed impossible. They just hadn’t been able to time it up right. Now, Odin was as powerful as ever and there was no discernable way to force him into the Arch.

Still, Harry pressed on, fighting with everything he had. The others joined him, and together, they fought until they could hardly stand. They threw every curse, spell, hex, and charm they could come up with at him, causing the room to practically glow with magic. And yet, for the most part, the spells barely affected Odin. For a few moments, he blocked their spells until he gained enough power to simply ignore everything they were casting. Once that time happened, Odin went on the offensive, tearing them down one by one. Dawlish and Malfoy got thrown into the air, colliding with each other before falling to the ground. Fleur fought until a length of conjured rope tied her up and dragged her to the ground, squeezing the life out of her. Emmett and Manuel fought side by side until Odin forced Manuel to Stun Emmett and then himself. Hermione charged at Odin, only to be thrown backwards. Viktor, Collin, and Abbi were all caught in the same explosion, knocking them out as they slammed into the far walls of the room.

In the end, Bill and Elaina stood with Harry, but they didn’t last long either. Bill was put into a Full-Body Bind and tossed to the end of the room. Elaina quickly followed him as she was tossed into the air, her body hovering just above Harry.

Once again, he stood alone. He was beaten and broken, barely able to stand. They had been so close. They had done everything they needed to end him. Still, it wasn’t enough.

Odin stood at the top of the dais, just in front of the wavering curtain behind him, taunting them with his proximity to their goal. Harry stood at the bottom of the dais, looking up at Odin as he raised his hands slowly above his head. On either side of him, the others floated high into the air until they were all suspended much like they had been in the vision that Legion had shown him.

“I didn’t want it to end this way, but you’ve forced my hand.”

Odin suddenly reached out and Hermione flew towards him from across the room. He tossed her to the ground and then grabbed her hair, pulling her up so that she was forced to look at Harry, screaming in agony as he pulled. 

“Please don’t kill her,” Harry begged as he climbed towards Odin, coming to stand just in front of where he stood with Hermione on her knees between them. “Listen, you are already as powerful as you ever were. We lost. We’re done. Just leave her be.”

As Harry spoke, he worked his wand from his wrist holster, waiting for the opportunity to strike. If Odin let go over Hermione, he could cast one spell with enough force that would throw Odin into the Arch. It was the only chance they had left.

“No, I will not leave her be,” Odin growled. “You have become more than simply a thorn in my side, and for that, you deserve to be punished. Rest assured, everyone in this room is going to die, but you, Harry Potter, will not be the last.”

“What?” Harry asked, his wand suddenly forgotten.

“I’ve seen your mind and I know your love for her,” Odin said as he leaned down to caress Hermione’s face.

“Leave her alone!” Harry screamed, stepping towards them both. Just as he did so, Odin reached down and placed a hand on either side of Hermione’s head.

“Take another step and I’ll snap her neck!” Odin roared, causing Harry to come to a halt. “No, I know how much you love her. I know that you would do anything to prevent her suffering. So, I will grant you that wish. I will kill everyone in this room, other than her, and I’ll save you for last. That way, when she watches as I take my rightful place in this world, she will be forced to watch, alone.”

Harry knew that Hermione would never want that. Which is exactly why Legion was doing it. He knew, by torturing her, he would also be torturing Harry for whatever time Harry had left on this world.

And so, as Legion let go of Hermione, he did the one thing left that he could. He drew his wand and fired.

_ “Expulso!” _

The Banishing Charm hit Odin in the chest, but had no effect. Harry froze, his wand held high, as Odin reached out and grabbed Harry’s wand, taking it directly from his hand. Harry watched in horror as Odin considered the wand for a moment before he snapped it in half and then threw it into the Arch. Harry’s eyes tracked the two pieces of his wand until they floated away into the nothingness beyond the Veil.

“And there ends the story of the phoenix wands,” Odin mocked. “There’s no Elder Wand to save you here, Harry Potter. No way out and no way to win.”

Harry’s heart plummeted as he watched the wand fade into nothing. Not because of the wand’s importance, although that couldn’t be overstated. No, because that wand had been his one hope against Odin.

A hope that was now gone.

Harry dropped to his knees in defeat, his mind racing as he tried in vain to come up with some other way to defeat Odin. But he knew that there was no way. He had gone up against a force greater than any man and he had lost. Finally, they had reached the end.

“Harry….”

Harry lifted his head to look at Hermione, who had tears streaming down her face.

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” Harry muttered in shame. “I tried. I tried so damn hard.”

“I know you did,” Hermione said warmly. “I know. It’s why I love you. You always tried, even when everyone told you not to.”

“I’m so sorry. I wish we could have more time. I wish we had been less stupid. We could have had so much more time.”

“I know,” Hermione replied. “I know.”

Suddenly, Odin reached for Hermione and he threw her up in the air before suspending her in midair with a flick of his wrist. Then, he turned back to Harry, casting a Full-Body Bind Curse on Harry, preventing him from moving.

Now, all he could do was watch.

“Who dies first?” Odin asked, kneeling down to meet his face. “Who dies first?”

“If you’re going to kill us, just do it already,” Harry said as he spat in Odin’s face. Odin wiped the spit from Harry’s face and then smiled. Suddenly, he stood and with a flick of his wrist, Manuel Collins and Emmett Davies came crashing to the ground at unnaturally high speeds, their bodies crunching painfully against the solid floor. The impact was like if they had fallen off the top of a skyscraper.

They were dead the moment they hit the floor, but that didn’t stop Harry from groaning as blood and guts exploded from the point of impact.

“Two down, several left to go,” Odin mused. “Who's next? Oh, I know!”

Again, a quick flick of his wrist. Again, two Aurors, this time, Collin Law and Paul Dawlish, crashing to the ground, exploding on contact.. Four dead because Harry had been too slow.

“What about her?” Odin asked, pointing towards where Fleur hovered above Harry. Harry wanted to do nothing more than scream out, but he could do nothing.

However, just before he had the opportunity to flick his wrist, a body suddenly fell out of the sky on the other side of the room. Harry desperately wanted to be able to move, to see what had happened. Odin turned towards the motion in surprise and just then, a blur came from out of the corner of Harry’s eye and threw itself at Odin’s back. In response to the sudden attack, Odin stumbled backwards toward the Arch. Harry, who sat perpendicular to the front of the Arch, watched as Odin tripped over Hermione and fell backwards towards the Arch.

Somehow, Draco Malfoy had managed to escape from Odin’s clutches. Harry had proven it wasn’t impossible, but it was incredibly difficult. Before Odin could react, Malfoy grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and threw him towards the Arch. While Odin was much bigger than Malfoy, he had also been caught completely off guard. Odin fell towards the Arch, reaching out grabbing the column on either side to prevent himself from going in.

Just before Odin could correct himself, Malfoy turned to Harry. In that second, time seemed to stop as Malfoy looked directly at Harry. Odin had fallen against the Arch and with just a simple push, he might have fallen in. But there was only way to know for sure and Harry realized this a moment before Malfoy gave him a subtle nod.

Then, he turned back to Odin, lowered his shoulder and charged, throwing the both of them through the Veil and into the Arch.

For a moment, Harry couldn’t believe what he had just seen. He remained on his knees, staring at the portal in front of him. Then, he realized that he could stand. He was free of the Body-Bind. Just at the same time, he realized that everyone had fallen from the suspended positions and now lay on the floor. Harry slowly got to his feet and wandered towards the Veil. It looked the same as it had on the day that Sirius had fallen in.

“Did he…” Harry heard Hermione mutter from his side.

“He did,” Harry said in awe. “Malfoy sacrificed himself to make sure Odin went back into the Arch.”

Harry and Hermione stood there, waiting for Odin to return, waiting for something. It wasn’t until Bill Weasley walked up from behind them several minutes later that they moved. When they told Bill what happened, he was stunned.

“Is there any way...any way he could come back?” Harry asked Bill.

“Which one?”

“Either of them,” Harry asked. 

“No, I don’t believe so,” Bill replied as he considered the Arch. “The charms only work one way. Even if you could figure out how to reverse it, I wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because Malfoy went in holding onto Odin,” Hermione replied. “If you reverse the runes, you run the risk of pulling them both out.”

“I imagine it's a bit of a moot point,” Bill added. “The realm that’s created by these runes are not meant for anything mortal. Malfoy likely died the moment that he touched the Veil.”

“What about Odin?” Hermione asked.

“It’s tough to say. Without the phylactery, he may have been incredibly magical, but he was also definitely human again,” Bill reasoned. “It’s possible that he’s dead, but it’s also possible that he’s trapped in there. Either way, we can’t be sure.”

“So the Arch remains,” Harry replied as he turned back to look at the mechanism that housed Legion once more. Of all the outcomes that Harry had foresaw, none of them ended with Malfoy sacrificing himself. But then, as Malfoy had said just the night before, he was trying to be a better man. 

Harry wasn’t certain Malfoy ended his life as a good man, but there was no doubt that it would take a better man to sacrifice himself like he had, especially for the people that he had done it for. In either case, Harry knew that he would never forget the sacrifice that Draco Malfoy had made and he would make sure that the rest of the world knew about it.

For a few minutes, as Hermione went around the room and checked everyone for injuries, Harry simply stood and stared at The Arch. They won, Harry suddenly realized. Legion was gone, locked in his cage again. They would take extra precautions to ensure that this never happened again.

And then, for the first time in months, Harry Potter took a deep breath, let it go, and, despite all they had lost, felt peace.


	26. Second Chances

If Harry had expected life to return to normal immediately following Legion’s capture, he had been sorely disappointed. An hour after Malfoy’s sacrifice, Harry and Hermione stood by Kingsley in the Atrium as he delivered an address to the public. While they had both been checked by St. Mungo’s Healers and new clothes and a quick shower had been provided, it was evident, based on the pictures that ended up in The Daily Prophet, that they had certainly been through the ringer.

Harry had coasted through Kingsley’s speech and the subsequent interview before returning to Safe House Four and instantly falling asleep, a sleep that lasted all the way through to the following morning. When Harry finally woke up, it was to dozens of articles, once again hailing Harry Potter as the hero of the day. 

Harry quickly scanned the articles, growing more frustrated with each word. None of them mentioned Draco Malfoy as anything more than just another unfortunate casualty of the battle. Most neglected to even include the names of Legion’s victims prior to their final struggle with the demigod. The only consistent piece of information between all of the articles was that Harry Potter, hero of the Second Wizarding War, had once again triumphed over evil.

When Harry returned to work the next day, he was immediately called in to a series of interviews with investigators appointed by the Wizengamot. They had been tasked with determining if there was any action that needed to take place, specifically after the deaths of Draco Malfoy and four Aurors. For days, Harry repeated the same stories over and over again until finally, the investigators seemed satisfied and let Harry go.

He had thought that he was done with the Wizengamot until he was given a summons for Friday morning to appear in front of the entire assembly. All Harry could hope, as he stood in front of the Wiznegamot that Friday morning, was that this was the last part of their show for the public. For nearly two hours, the same investigators that had interviewed Harry earlier in the week summarized the results of their interviews. They detailed that while they believed that there were some issues with parts of the investigation, on the whole, there was no blame to be assessed to any particular member of the Ministry of Magic or the Auror Office.

However, that didn’t stop the Wizengamot from badgering Harry for another two hours about protocol. Harry fought the urge to snap back and answered each question calmly and succinctly. He was respectful to each member of the Wizengamot, even ones like Theodore Nott, who more than once implied that the investigation would have been handled better had the Head of the DMLE been a Pureblood.

Still, after well over four hours of listening to people talk and answering questions, the session ended and Harry was finally allowed to leave. As he made to walk out the door, one of the Aurors stepped in front of him.

“Sir, The Minister would like to see you in his office.”

“Thanks,” Harry said. Within just a few minutes, Harry stood across from where Kingsley sat. Kingsley looked quite pleased with himself as he invited Harry to sit.

“Well, all in all, that couldn’t have gone better,” Kingsley mused as Harry took the seat. “What do you say, Harry?”

Harry bit his tongue and simply nodded. 

“Personally, I’m glad that we can put this all behind us now and focus on the future.”

“When are you intending to announce your resignation?” Harry asked suddenly. Kingsley was clearly knocked off guard by the question.

“I hadn’t given it much thought to be honest.”

“When we talked a few weeks ago, you said that it would be in a few weeks. Yet, I’ve heard nothing about your resignation. No one has. It’s like you aren’t planning to resign.”

Immediately, Kingsley averted his eyes from Harry’s, staring at the ceiling above him.

“Kingsley?”

“I’ve been asked to remain as Minister of Magic by the Wizengamot,” Kingsley replied. “They appreciated how well this crisis was handled and would like me to stay on. I went to the Chief Warlock a few days ago, intending to resign.”

“But you couldn’t resist when they asked you to come back,” Harry replied in disbelief. Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He finally got out of his chair and started pacing Kingsley’s office.

“I thought that you would be happy about this. The Ministry will be stable again.”

“I’m not looking for stability right now,” Harry replied sharply. “I’m looking for someone who will lead, not simply placate the Wizengamot for another ten years.”

“Are you implying that I’ve simply sat in this chair for the last decade, Harry?”

“I’m not implying it, Kingsley. I’m saying it outright. When you were elected, you promised to remove the Dementors from Azkaban. You promised to eliminate every prejudiced law from our books. You promised that you would lead our people into a new generation of witches and wizards.”

“Yes, I know that I said those things, but---”

“But there are still dementors at Azkaban. Sure, they only guard the most dangerous prisoners and sure, they only surround the buildings, but they are there.”

“Yes, well, you see---”

“And it’s still legal for a business owner to refuse to hire someone because of their blood status,” Harry added, his fury building with each word. “Did you know that Gringotts can legally charge different rates to different families based on their bloodline? It’s been ten years and we still don’t have a way for our people to actually make a difference in who our leaders are. The Wizengamot is appointed by the Minister of Magic and then the Wizengamot appoints the Minister of Magic!”

“And that’s how it’s been for hundreds of years.”

“Well, no more,” Harry growled. “No, I’m done and if there’s ever been anyone who could change that, it’s me.”

“I thought you said that you weren’t interested in being Minister of Magic.”

“At the moment, I’m not,” Harry replied. “But I am interested in seeing who the people want to be Minister of Magic.” 

“We don’t have any provisions for that in the Wizard’s Code,” Kingsley replied. “There have been any fundamental changes to the Wizard’s Code in a hundred years.”

“Sounds like it’s about time for some changes then,” Harry said as he walked to the door. “Here’s the deal,  _ sir,  _ you have twenty-four hours to resign on your own or I’ll do it for you.”

Finally, Kingsley had had enough of Harry’s insubordination. He stood and marched around the table towards Harry.

“Who do you think you are to order me around? I am the Minister of Magic, Harry, not you, and the sooner you understand that, the sooner things will get to the way they were.”

Harry scoffed at just how pompous Kingsley sounded.

“You don’t get it,” Harry muttered. “I don’t want things to go back to the way they were. Things should be better. Our people deserve better and they certainly aren’t going to get it from you.”

“That’s not for you to decide.”

“It’s not for you to decide either, Kingsley,” Harry countered. “Now, come hell or high water, I am shaking the foundation of the Ministry. If that costs me my job, then so be it. But people are going to know that they don’t just deserve a better Ministry, but a say in that Ministry.”

Harry had had enough. He opened the door before turning back to Kingsley.

“Take this opportunity to get out on your own. Resign now while you can do so with some dignity.”

Twenty-two hours later, Kingsley Shacklebolt officially announced his resignation, effective at the end of January, a little less than two months away. He also announced that, for the first time in the entire history of the Ministry of Magic, he would recommend that the Wizengamot allow for a public vote of its citizens for the next Minister of Magic. While this wasn’t technically something that he could enact, the recommendation would put so much public pressure on the Wizengamot that they would stand no chance of turning him down, especially since Harry and Hermione and a dozen others immediately expressed their support for such a measure.

Sure enough, less than a week later, the Wizengamot announced that they would no longer be selecting the Minister of Magic, but would be allowing a vote of the public on January 2nd for the new Minister of Magic. Almost immediately, Harry and Hermione’s names were thrown into the ring, but both respectfully declined. There would be time enough for that kind of work in the future, but for now, they were content to simply live their lives.

That Sunday, Harry, Hermione, and Teddy were getting ready to leave Hermione’s home when a letter arrived from Molly and Arthur.

_ Harry and Hermione, _

_ We’ve decided to cancel Sunday dinners for the foreseeable future. We hope to see you soon. _

_ Arthur and Molly _

Immediately, Harry bid a quick farewell to Hermione and Teddy before Apparating to The Burrow. Moments before he reached the backdoor, it opened to reveal Molly standing in the doorway.

“Did you receive our letter?” she asked sadly.

“I did. I wanted to talk to you about it,” Harry said as Molly stepped aside, allowing him to enter the small kitchen. Just as Harry walked in, Arthur entered from the living room.

“Harry, did you get our letter?”

“We did,” Harry replied. “I wanted to know why you wanted to cancel dinner.”

Arthur looked at Molly, who turned to Harry and smiled sweetly.

“We just...we can’t,” she said as she took a seat at the dining table. “We didn’t have much time to really mourn for Ron and now that it’s all over…..well, it’s all I can feel.”

“We’ll bring the dinners back at some point, Harry, but we need some time to ourselves.”

Harry took a seat across from Molly and then reached across the table and took her hand in his.

“I understand,” Harry said with a sad smile. “I think part of the reason that I’ve been keeping myself so busy these last few days is because it keeps me from thinking about it. But you know what else helps me with that? Teddy and Hermione. I know that Teddy is still broken up by Andromeda’s death whether he shows it or not. And Hermione is just as devastated by Ron’s death as I am.”

“But overall, the three of us are surviving,” Harry said. “We’re surviving because we’re together. I’ve messed up a lot in the last few years, but I know a lot about grieving. I know that my grief was never so overwhelming when I had Ron and Hermione at my side. It was better still when I had the two of you.”

“I understand perfectly if you want to cancel dinner. It’s certainly your right,” Harry said before leaning across from the table. “But think about Ginny. Think about George and Angelina and all the rest of them. Right now, they are out there on their own. Sure, they have each other, but eventually, they’ll need to turn to someone else. Eventually, they’ll need some time to just unwind and not think about things for a while. That’s what you started these dinners for after the Battle of Hogwarts and while it may be painful, I think that there’s some real value to having them now.”

Molly looked at Arthur, each of them considering what Harry had said. Finally, Molly turned back to Harry.

“You may be right,” Molly admitted, “but I just don’t have the energy for it right now.”

“And if I knew someone who did?” Harry asked.

“You know someone who is going to cook for this family? Where would you even put us all?”

“Well, there’s a lot that can be done with magic, Molly Weasley,” Harry said with a grin. “With your permission, I’d like to take over Sunday dinner, just this once.”

Molly laughed, the first time he had even seen her smile since he walked in the room.

“If you think you can handle it, you have my blessing.”

Within an hour, Harry and Hermione had completely redesigned much of the library in her home. The room itself was plenty large enough for the number of people that they needed, but Hermione’s kitchenware would never be close enough in size. Therefore, Harry and Hermione had created the menu items quickly and then duplicated them until they had enough to serve everyone.

Once they were certain they could handle everyone, they sent out invites, letting everyone know that they were ready for them. Within minutes, the entire family had arrived. All except one. When Bill and Fleur arrived, they pulled Harry aside.

“Gabrielle will not be coming,” Fleur said sadly. “She ‘as gone back ‘ome to visit with my mother and father.”

“Is she alright?” Harry asked, although he was certain that he knew the answer.

“She eez struggling,” Fleur admitted. “I ‘ave not spoken to her for days and from what my mother and father tell me, she ‘as not spoken much to zem either. She simply wants to be alone at ze moment.”

“I know that she probably won’t want to hear from me, but tell her that if she needs anything, all she needs to do is ask.”

“I imagine zat she will need time, but thank you, ‘Arry.”

The rest of the evening was a casual affair, highlighted by the moment when Hermione accidentally set her apron on fire. Overall, they had been able to avoid thinking too much about all of the bad things that had happened. Still, they all knew why they were there. It was the same reason that these dinners existed in the first place. The first one had been for Fred and this one was for Ron.

And so, as the night began to wind down, Harry grabbed a glass, filled it to the brim with some of Fred’s Finest, and made his way to the head of the table where he lifted his glass held high.

“To Neville and Andromeda and everyone we’ve lost over the last few months. But most importantly, to Ron, the best friend I’ll ever have.”

“To Ron,” came the subdued call from the rest of the room as they followed Harry’s lead and emptied their glasses. Once the toast was over, people slowly started to file out until only Molly and Arthur remained with Harry and Hermione.

“Thank you so much,” Molly said, her eyes wet with tears as she wrapped her arms around Harry. “You were right. We needed this.”

“He would have wanted us to be together,” Harry said as Molly let him go. “I’m sure of it.”

“We are, too, son,” Arthur said as he too embraced Harry firmly. “Maybe we’ll talk about alternating weeks from here on out.”

“We would be honored,” Hermione called from across the room as she began the cleanup process.

“Sounds like a deal,” Harry said. “However, before you go, there is one thing I want to do.”

“What’s that?”

He wanted to visit The Burrow later that night. He wanted to go and sit by the pond and have a drink and just talk, like he had done with Ron dozens of times over the years. Molly and Arthur quickly agreed and then left, leaving Harry to quickly help Hermione tidy up.

Once they had finished that and Harry tucked Teddy into bed, Harry Apparated to The Burrow, just a few feet from the spot where he and Ron had always sat. Instinctively, Harry flicked his wand and two chairs appeared out of thin air.

Harry froze as he looked at the second chair. He hadn’t meant to create a second, but he had done it so many times over the years that it had become second nature. For a moment, Harry considered getting rid of it before deciding that the extra chair would stay. Instead, he sat and took out his bottle of Fred’s Finest, pouring two glasses, one of which he set on the arm of the extra chair.

For nearly an hour, Harry sat and simply watched the water on the lake, hundreds of memories flashing one by one into his mind.

“We did it, Ron,” Harry eventually said, tears already streaming down his face. “We beat that bastard.”

“I keep telling people that everything will be alright. Together, we’ll get through it, that’s what I say. And then they turn away and I fall apart. You know, it was kind of easy to deal with when Legion was still here. I could focus on that and just ignore the fact that you were gone. I’m still trying to do that. I’m burying myself in my work again when I know that I should spend more time with Teddy and Hermione.”

“But I see Teddy and then I see Andromeda. I see Hermione and I see you. I know that with time, that will pass. But it’s never been this hard before, not even with Sirius. Every day, I wake up and I want to tell you how things are going and then I remember that I can’t. Every. Fucking. Day. It’s pure agony, the kind of torture I wouldn’t wish upon my greatest enemy.”

“I know that you’re out there somewhere. I hope that you hear this. I hope that you’re watching. I’m going to do everything I can to make you proud of me. Wherever you are, I hope you are well. Say hi to Mom and Dad for me.”

About thirty minutes later, Harry Disapparated from the Burrow, the two chairs remaining at the lake as a permanent reminder of the time that he spent with his friend. 

The next day, Harry did three major things. First, he officially closed the Helen Greene murder investigation, now known as The Legion Case. He had spent almost all of his spare time at work, between interviewing new potential Senior and Junior Aurors and attending state funerals for the departed, writing copious logs and notes about the case for the record.

Just as Harry officially sealed the record and sent it to Kingsley’s office for approval, he heard a rumor from one of his Aurors that Roger Davies, a member of the Wizengamot and an employee with the Department of International Magical Cooperation, was considering a run for Minister of Magic. It would make him the youngest Minister of Magic in a century.

Roger wasn’t a particularly inspiring choice, but at the moment, he was better than the alternative. Plus, the next Minister would be someone selected by the people. If they were terrible, then no one could blame the Wizengamot any longer.

The second major thing that Harry did was finally go to Ollivander’s to replace his wand. Despite his rapidly advancing age, Garrick Ollivander remained the sole man in charge of the operation, although he reportedly had a nephew who was working on the craft to take over. Still, when Ollivander heard that Harry’s phoenix wand had been destroyed, he had only one question for Harry.

“Why not take the Elder Wand as your own?” Ollivander asked. While Ollivander didn’t believe in the Hallows, he definitely believed in the Death Stick. The news that the Elder Wand existed hadn’t spread much after the war, but for a certain population of the world, they knew that the wand likely belonged to Harry Potter, although none of them were certain where it was.

At the moment, it was sitting in Dumbledore’s tomb under nearly two dozen different wards that would burn someone to a crisp before they could access the wand.

Harry didn’t bother to answer the question and simply asked Ollivander to help him in procuring a new wand. Unlike the last time that Harry was in, it didn’t take him long to find a new wand. The second wand that Ollivander placed in his hand was beautiful and the moment it touched his hand, a surge of magical energy traveled up and down his arm.

“Red oak,” Ollivander said, his excitement palpable. “Fools believe that red oak is the sign of a hot temper and while, yes, that may be true, the true match for a red oak was in someone in possession of unusually fast reactions. Maybe a former Seeker, for instance?”

“It’s a dueling wand?”

“It certainly can be, although that does depend on how you use it, dear boy,” Ollivander replied. “The core is dragon heartstring, a powerful material suitable only for powerful wizards. Capable of the most stylish and flamboyant magic. Just as good for putting on a show as dueling. The wand itself is mildly flexible, twelve inches in length.”

The wand felt good in his hand. It wasn’t his holly wand, although Harry doubted that he would ever connect with a magical object in the way that he had with that wand ever again. Still, the moment it touched his hand, he could feel the power coursing through the wand. He would be able to produce great magic with this wand, Harry was sure of that.

Harry returned to Herimione’s place that night where Hermione and Teddy were already waiting. Hermione had made a wonderful pasta dish that included some of his favorite sausage and spinach.

After dinner, Harry and Hermione joined forces to get Teddy ready for bed. Once Teddy was tucked in, Harry did what he had done every night for the last two weeks: he told Teddy every part of his day. While he left out some of the more boring aspects, he told Teddy everything he did. Teddy often had wonderfully insightful questions that would lead them astray for a few minutes. Usually, by the time that Harry had finished talking about his day, Teddy was ready to go to sleep.

Tonight, Teddy didn’t even make it through Harry’s lunch before he was asleep. A smile on his face, Harry turned out the lights and gently closed the door behind him. When Harry reached the bottom of the stairs, Hermione was waiting for him.

“Is he asleep already?” Hermione asked as she escorted him to the couch.

“Passed out in less than five minutes,” Harry replied as he sat on the couch. Hermione joined him and tucked her head under his arm.

“Did you tell him that you closed the case?”

“I was in the process when I noticed he was asleep,” Harry replied. “I’ll tell him tomorrow. Hey, did you hear that Roger Davies is planning on---”

“Running for Minister? Yeah, I heard,” Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. “Not exactly the kind of man you had in mind when you said you wanted to replace Kingsley.”

“I wanted someone chosen by more than just the few witches and wizards of influence. If that ends up being Roger Davies, then so be it. If he’s terrible, then we can replace him with someone else soon enough.”

“Right.”

“Why don’t you do it?” Harry asked.

“Why don’t you?” Hermione replied.

“I asked you first.”

Hermione sat up and sighed as she considered the question.

“Because we have a lot to figure out here. We have Teddy and we’re still very much getting used to that. I just don’t think I could justify running for Minister of Magic at the moment,” Hermione replied. “What about you?”

“Pretty much the same. While he may have been off about a lot, Kingsley was right that I will probably end up with the job one day. Of course, that was before the Wizengamot enacted elections. Who knows what will happen now?”

“Speaking of what will happen now, you and I need to talk,” Hermione said. Based on her tone, Harry could tell that she wasn’t upset but that she had something important on her mind.

“Alright.”

“We’re a couple now, right?” Hermione asked.

“I thought we were. I mean we never said it “officially” or anything like that, but I thought that we were.”

“And are you living here?”

“Well, that depends on Teddy and you. I know that he loves the hell out of you and I know you love him too, but that doesn’t mean that you are ready to be a full-time mother.”

“And you are ready to be a father?” Hermione shot back.

“No, not particularly,” Harry admitted, “but Teddy is my responsibility. I’m his legal guardian now. I’m his father. So, I’m going to live wherever I can live with Teddy. I understand not wanting to rush things so if you aren’t comfortable with any part of this, I want you to tell me now.”

Hermione stood up and walked around the room, pacing as she thought. Finally, she turned back to Harry.

“I want to rush things,” Hermione said firmly. “We spent so long avoiding this. I think we owe it to ourselves to do it right. Everything about it will be hard, but I love you and Merlin, I love Teddy. I want the two of you to live here with me. Permanently.”

“You’re sure you want to rush things?” Harry asked.

“I’m sure.”

“How sure?” Harry asked as he rose from the couch.

“I’d bet my life on how sure I am.”

“Good,” Harry said as he dropped to a knee. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a simple diamond ring that he had found in his vault years earlier. There was no note attached to it, but the ring was decidedly modern, unlike a lot of the jewelry inside the vault. As a result, Harry firmly believed that it must have been his mother’s.

“You are right that we spent too long avoiding this,” Harry said as he held the ring high in front of him. “We wasted time. Time that we can never get back. But I don’t ever want to lose another day with you. Hermione Granger, will you marry me?”

For a moment, Hermione froze, her eyes wide, as she stared at the ring. For just a moment, Harry feared the worst. He feared that he had asked too soon, that he had misread the signs. Then, Hermione held her hand out in front of her with glistening eyes as she nodded her head.

“Yes, Harry Potter, yes, I will marry you. Of course, I will marry you.”

May 16, 2009

Harry stood at the edge of the pond, watching Teddy, dressed in a black suit that matched Harry’s, as he skipped rocks on the pond. Then, he looked down at his watch.

Twelve minutes left.

“Harry, Minister Davies wants to speak with you,” Harry heard Arthur say as he approached.

“You can tell the Minister of Magic that I am a little busy at the moment.”

Arthur approached, also dressed to impress, with a letter that he handed Harry. Harry had intentionally been out of communication with the rest of the world since Wednesday. Still, the letters came pouring in. Five solid months as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and people still couldn’t figure out how to do their jobs without him holding their hand.

Harry thought he was a better teacher than that.

Harry took the letter and, without reading it, balled it up and threw it in the pond.

“Apologize to the Minister on my behalf,” Harry said with a smirk. “What did it say?”

“Something about some sort of magical explosion in the North Sea.”

“Is Elaina taking care of it?”

“As always.”

“Then, I don’t see any reason for concern,” Harry replied. 

Roger Davies had been elected Minister of Magic by an overwhelming margin in January. Of course, it didn’t hurt when you ran against Theodore Nott and former Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge. Nott drove himself out of the race by running such an aggressively pro-Pureblood campaign that even some of the strongest Pureblood families refused to endorse him.

And while everyone enjoyed getting a chance to laugh at Cornelius Fudge being on a stage again, almost no one seriously considered voting for him.

All in all, Davies wasn’t a bad Minister. He was young, intelligent, and decidedly not Fudge or Nott. He was also inexperienced, a bit naive, and, at the moment, overly reliant on his senior officials like Harry and Hermione.

That made things a bit difficult when Harry and Hermione, now the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, took off work for two weeks in order to get married.

Harry checked his watch again. Eleven minutes, this time.

When Harry and Hermione had been in the process of planning their wedding, the first question had been the most important: Where? Almost immediately the answer had been given to them when Molly had offered them the same thing they offered all of their children: space at The Burrow. Considering the fact that they knew they would be limiting invites to a small number of people, it was a perfect location and one that made setting up much easier.

Hermione had taken the entire week off prior to the wedding, mostly because her parents had decided to come. When she had sent out the invitation, she had been uncertain if they would even come. It had certainly been a load off Harry’s mind when they sent a letter back, indicating their intention to come.

On Harry’s end, he had worked all the way until Wednesday, helping new Head Auror Elaina Andrews continue to get settled into her position. While Harry was no longer the Head Auror, Davies had asked that Harry retained operational control of the Auror Office. Effectively, Harry planned the missions and Elaina executed them, which was just fine for both of them. Harry expected that he would be able to convince Davies to allow Elaina to fly solo by the end of the year, which would give him significantly more time to do the rest of his job.

After that, Harry had spent most of his time here at The Burrow, helping get everything set up. Because the wedding was for two high-ranking Ministry officials, there was a requirement that the event be staffed by Ministry Hit Wizards for protection. Of course, any idiot that dared attack this wedding would quickly be vanquished.

Harry looked down at his watch. Ten minutes left.

“Are you nervous?” Arthur asked as he noticed Harry check his watch.

“I’m excited,” Harry replied. “I get to marry my best friend. I just wish that Ron was here to see it.”

“Ron would be happy for both of you,” Arthur assured him. “Just like Molly and I are happy for both of you.”

Harry turned away from Teddy, who had just successfully skipped a rock six times, and faced Arthur.

“Arthur, I just want to thank you again for all of this. You didn’t have to do this---”

Arthur put a hand up in front of Harry’s face, stopping him in his tracks.

“This is what we do for family, Harry. You and Hermione, the two of you have been family for years. We were just happy that we could make your day easier.”

“You haven’t just made it easier. You made it better,” Harry replied. “Thank you.”

“You are quite welcome, son,” Arthur said as he pulled something out of his jacket pocket. “Here. This is for you.”

In Arthur’s hands was a small, wooden box. The wood had been stained a cherry color and in the center was a simple, silver clasp. Harry took the box from Arthur and opened it to find a small compass. The compass itself was small, just big enough to sit in your hand. It was made entirely of silver except for the hand itself which appeared to be gold.

As Harry examined the compass more, he noticed that there were no directional markings on it. Yet it clearly still pointed in the same direction no matter how Harry turned it.

“It is enchanted. No matter where you go, pull that out and it will always point you home.”

“Home?” Harry asked. Then, he looked down and noticed that the arrow was pointed straight at the house. It pointed to The Burrow.

Of course The Burrow was home. Harry was about to thank Arthur for such a thoughtful gift when he suddenly saw something inscribed on the side. Harry turned the compass on his side and read the inscription.

_ RBW _

_ A gift for my son, a man I could not be more proud of _

Harry looked back up at Arthur who was smiling at him as he tried desperately not to cry. 

“This was supposed to be Ron’s,” Harry said and he immediately tried handing the compass back to Arthur, who refused him.

“It was,” Arthur admitted. “When Ginny was born, we told my parents that we were finally done having children. My father was very old at that point and he knew that he wouldn’t live long enough to see them grow up. But he had always enjoyed making little trinkets, especially compasses.”

“My father died two or three years before Ron went to Hogwarts. When you have seven children, it’s difficult to keep track of these things,” Arthur said with a chuckle. “In his will, among the number of items that he left to me was a box. Inside this box were seven compasses, each of them with the initials of one of my children on it. There were instructions inside that would allow me to enchant the compasses in two ways. The first would give them the point to focus on, in this case, The Burrow.”

“But the second would allow me to inscribe something on the side, just below the initials. For years, I kept these compasses, wondering when I should give them to my children. Then, Bill announced he was getting married and I realized that it would be a perfect wedding present. It was a gift that would remind him of home while being something of my father’s that I could give to them. And so, the night before his wedding, I enacted the enchantment and inscribed the compass.”

“When George got married, I decided to make it a tradition. And so, on the night before his wedding to Angelina, I enchanted the compass. Then, Ginny got married and again, on the night before her wedding, I enchanted the compass, although Ginny might wish for a second chance with that seeing as how things turned out.”

Arthur suddenly reached out and took the compass out of the box and set it in Harry’s hand.

“And then, just a few months ago, my youngest son told me that he was getting married to the woman of his dreams. And so, on the night before his wedding, I enchanted the compass.”

Harry looked down at the compass, the true meaning of Arthur’s story washing over him. The compass may have originally been intended for Ron, but the words that accompanied the initials, those words were meant for him. Harry looked back up at Arthur, who had finally given in to the tears that were now cascading down his face.

“A gift for my son,” Arthur said as he took Harry’s hand in his own. Arthur reached into the box, pulled out the compass, and placed it in Harry’s hand.

“A man I could not be more proud of.”

Harry had always viewed the Weasleys as family. Over the years, there was no doubt that they were the surrogates for the family that had been taken from him. But a gift like this, a gift intended for one of Arthur’s sons, specifically a gift intended for Ron, given to him was too much and, unable to contain himself, Harry threw his arms around Arthur’s neck as he pulled his father close and held him in his arms.

Harry held onto Arthur until he heard someone say his name. It was Molly, who had approached from the bottom of the hill.

“Harry?” Molly asked as Harry finally let Arthur go. “I see Arthur gave you his gift.”

“Uh...yes,” Harry said, completely at a loss for words. Then, he looked down at his watch, which showed just a few minutes until three-thirty. “Is it time?”

“It’s time.”

Before anyone went anywhere, Harry turned to Arthur.

“I cannot thank you enough for everything you have done for me. Everything that your family has done for me.”

“They’re your family, too, Harry. That’s what family does.”

“Right,” Harry said with a smile as he pocketed the compass. “Teddy, let’s go!”

The three men walked down the hill towards the ten that had been set up in the yard. Unlike when Bill and Fleur had gotten married, Harry and Hermione had opted for a much more subdued affair. Obviously, all the members of the Weasley clan would be there. Luna and Hagrid had been invited as well.

For the rest of their friends, the members of The Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore’s Army had been invited to a party at Harry and Hermione’s home that night that would likely last until the morning. For now, they had all the people in the world present.

Harry, Arthur and Teddy arrived just as Minerva McGonagall stepped to the front of the room. The second question that Harry and Hermione had needed to answer before they could get married was: Who would officiate the wedding? They wanted someone they knew, but they couldn’t pick among their friends.

That’s when Hermione had a brilliant idea: Minerva McGonagall. Hermione had approached the Headmistress with the idea the following day and McGonagall had agreed on the spot. Now, she stood at the front of the small ceremonial space and nodded. Harry’s attention moved from McGonagall to the back of the room. Harry and Hermione had decided that, rather than play favorites among their nieces and nephews, they would just use all of them.

And so, one at a time, Bill and Fleur’s children, Brian, Dani, and Aimee, came down the aisle, followed by Fred and Kat, George and Angelina’s children. All was going well until Kat decided that she would rather play with the streamers than throw flower petals. She grabbed one of the streamers off the floor and started sprinting up and down the aisle, waving it over the head like some sort of strange interpretive dance as George desperately tried to track her down. Needless to say, it was a very funny scene.

Then came the Best Man and The Maid of Honor. When Harry had originally thought about this, he had considered leaving the space next to him empty in order to honor Ron. But when Hermione suggested that Teddy be his Best Man, Harry couldn’t resist, especially once she told him that Ginny was going to be her Maid of Honor.

And so, Teddy, all of eleven and just a few months away from his first year at Hogwarts, walked arm-in-arm with the twenty-seven year old Quidditch superstar that he had idolized since he could walk. Teddy’s reaction when he had learned that he, Teddy Lupin, would be escorting Ginny down the aisle had been legendary.

This was even better. Ginny looked gorgeous in the silver dress that she wore and Teddy couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, which forced Harry to do his best to stifle a laughter, an effort that he did not succeed at. Ginny rolled her eyes at Harry as Teddy and Ginny reached the front, knowing just how much Harry was enjoying Teddy’s reaction to escorting his favorite Quidditch player down the aisle.

It was a story that he would tell at Hogwarts for years.

And then, Harry looked up and, for what could have been a moment or possibly the rest of his life, he stopped breathing. Standing at the back of the room, dressed head to toe in gold, was his soon-to-be wife. She was, without a doubt, the single most beautiful thing that Harry had ever seen.

And she was flashing that million Galleon smiling, that smile that gave Harry life.

As Harry saw her, the gathered parties rose, but Harry barely noticed. For the time being, for these few precious seconds, she was it. She was all that mattered and the only other thing in the world. Her father stood at her side, arm in arm with her, as she walked down the aisle. When they reached the end of the aisle, Harry stepped down from his place to greet him.

“You best take care of my daughter,” he said with a smile on his face.

“Sir, I would give up every ounce of gold in my vault for your daughter.”

“Good answer.”

Then, he turned, kissed Hermione on the cheek, and then offered Hermione’s hand to him, which Harry took eagerly. Hermione quickly reached up and wiped away a tear from his eye.

“Have you been crying already?”

“It was Arthur’s fault,” Harry replied as they turned to McGonagall, who was smiling at both of them.

“Thank you for coming today,” McGonagall said as everyone else sat. “Today, we are here to witness the marriage between Harry James Potter and Hermione Jean Granger. These two have asked that we keep the ceremony as brief as possible. Therefore, I will do my best to keep my personal comments brief.”

When they had asked McGonagall to officiate the wedding, her only request had been that she be allowed to say a few words, a request that Harry and Hermione granted immediately. 

“The only two students that frustrated me more over my time at Hogwarts than Harry and Hermione were Fred and George Weasley,” McGonagall said to instantaneous laughter from the crowd. “Not for the same reason as The Twins, obviously, and not for the same reason as each other. For Miss Granger, my frustration usually stemmed when I was trying to end a class. As I would finish my thoughts for the day, I could count on Hermione Granger’s hand to shoot in the air. Typically, I encouraged my students to ask questions, but when you are already getting perfect marks in my class and you are keeping the entire class waiting, patience can run thin. It got bad enough that for an entire week during her seventh year, her year after the war ended, that is, that I banned her from asking questions at all. Still, I would find little notes on my desk after class, as if by shrinking her writing, she would be subject to less punishment for having asked the question in the first place.”

“And, of course, for Mr. Potter, there was no end to the list of frustrations. He was an obviously bright student, despite what some of my moodier colleagues would say, who was clearly content to be nothing more than average. Then, there were the trolls, basilisk, hippogriffs, dragons, thestrals, acromantulas, and giants. If Harry Potter went more than a week without causing massive amounts of property damage or getting put in detention, I believe that he considered it a week wasted.”

No one had ever heard Minerva McGonagall speak like this about anyone before, but let alone her two most famous students. The Weasleys were rolling in their seats and Hagrid nearly fell off of his chair entirely, which would have made it two for two on that particular wedding event.

“And yet, I can honestly stand here and say that I have never been more proud of two of my students. They are remarkable in a number of ways, gifted in magic that most people dare not to even attempt. And yet, the thing that makes them such excellent people is not their gifts, plenty though they may be. No, it is their nature as human beings that make them such wonderful people. There is no one more determined than Hermione Granger when faced with someone who she believes has been wronged. There is no defender more fierce than Harry Potter when standing between those who would seek to abuse power and those who would be abused.”

“It is what has made them our greatest defenders. That, and as my oldest friend would have said, their capacity for love. Albus Dumbledore believed in the power of love over everything else. If you only had these two as proof of that, you would make me and every person here a believer. It is my great honor and pleasure to stand before these two fine people today and join you in witnessing their union.”

Finally, she turned to Teddy.

“Do you have the rings, young man?”

Teddy, who had clearly been preparing for his big moment, reached into his pocket and quickly pulled out two rings. She handed the first to Hermione, who took Harry’s hand in her own and placed the ring on his finger.

“Hermione Granger, do you take this man to be your husband?”

“I do.”

Then, McGonagall passed Hermione’s ring to Harry, who swiftly placed it on her finger.

“Harry Potter, do you take this woman to be your wife?”

“I do.”

McGonagall smiled at the two of them.

“Then, it is my great honor and privilege to declare you as husband and wife. Mr. Potter, you may now kiss the bride!”

Harry stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Hermione as he leaned in to kiss her as everyone else in the tent shouted for joy. Harry stood there for just a moment, his lips locked with Hermione. More than anything, he wanted to catalog this moment as the single happiest moment of his life.

In the future, if a Patronus would ever be needed, Harry would never find himself wanting for a memory ever again.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce to you Mr. Harry Potter and Mrs. Hermione Granger!”

The last few months had been hard, some of the hardest of his life. He had lost more in those months than he had ever thought possible. But he had also gained. He was a father now. He was a husband. The world took and the world gave. 

It was how you responded that determined who you were. And at the moment, despite all the horrors of the past few months, Harry James Potter was the happiest man in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it for this story! For the few of you that have made it this far, thanks for reading. I hope you liked it and you should leave a comment if you did. 
> 
> Thanks,  
> MrZ


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